Searching Stories

PROLOGUE Our story opens on Wednesday, June 22 nd 1727. The day King George the first, died in Germany, but more importantly, it was the day I was born. I was christened Richard Oliver Philip Stapleton in our family chapel, the second son to Earl Cecil Stapleton of Stapleton Hall. My mother, Elizabeth, nee Carlton, had an easy time in birthing me so I was told, unlike my elder brother Edward who nearly killed her in the p...

I wonder where you are Why are you not listening Why have you gone to the place Where my words are not heard? Does it mean so little to you That I have something to say Are my verbal thoughts Unimportant? The place you have gone Does not allow me in My opinions Are not welcome I wonder why you left me Alone to think aloud Only to return When I'm silent Do my words hurt you Do you feel pain Or do you just Not understand Yo...

At night, sailing through the dark, I’d lie awake hearing the wind howl and the water break and pound against the ship and there, lying on my back, looking up into the dark, I’d listen to the night above me, sighing restlessly, while the stillness, stark and jagged, made my breathing fall and rise like waves swelling under moonless skies. I’d lie there, rolling like the ship--no course, no star, no way to steer, no way to...

Jason’s suicide shattered our lives. We had no clue. None of us knew what was going on. I was his best friend ever since 2 nd grade at Sherman Elementary School. We went to Hidden Valley Camp in Maine every summer, played little league baseball and damn it, we spent almost every day together, so how could I not know what was going on? Why would he hang himself?At the cemetery when they were burying him, I couldn’t keep my...

Tonight I cannot see the stars or moon.Clouds have taken from my view all light. I cannot see my hands or feet but know that they exist.This Stone is here against my chest but nothing else is known. I am invisible. All is gone, except my voiceasking who is speaking in this darkness. I had a name—some syllables I answered to.but on this hill I am nothing but a being struggling to exist. Do flowers know their names?Do trees...

clues for us abound seen the world around not always recognized tools found not utilized tools and clues are still there leading us sometimes to despair questions asked not getting answered search though we do still unanswered arguments start between mind and heart often leaving souls empty broken apart really none of us are a closed book clues placed there for others to look sometimes they see sometimes not sometime not...

The rain was cold against my skin, as if I was covered in water that was clinging to me to form icicles. It seemed to get worse as I walked the two mile stretch of driveway up to my mother's house. You would think that after the last three winters of making this long hike, the cold weather would seem almost natural and not affect me as much. But the cold never got easier to deal with, neither did the hike. In fact, knowin...