Wundervölker, Monstrosität und Hässlichkeit im Mittelalter (German Edition)

Sue Bohlin offers a quiz covering Bible basics rather than trivia. That's because we're not reading and studying the Bible. Who wrote the first five books of the Old Testament? .. Probe fulfills this mission through our Mind Games conferences for youth and adults, our 3-minute daily radio program, and.

Free download. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and read online Wow! I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! file PDF Book only if you are registered here. And also you can download or read online all Book PDF file that related with Wow! I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! book. Happy reading Wow! I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! Bookeveryone. Download file Free Book PDF Wow! I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! at Complete PDF Library. This Book have some digital formats such us :paperbook, ebook, kindle, epub, fb2 and another formats. Here is The CompletePDF Book Library. It's free to register here to get Book file PDF Wow! I CANT BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! Pocket Guide.

I would assume it is the same here. Comment by Archean It would be the first attempt with no deaths whatsoever, not the 2nd,3rd, 4th etc. Comment by Rexall So your saying your guild downed Every boss in naxx without anyone dieing only to have someone fail on Frogger? LMAO that has to be the funniest thing I have read on wowhead! Comment by shalur You guys are interpretting this wrong. It's not spelled out, but I think it's pretty obvious. Comment by skribs I can't read your comments over how awesome mine is. Comment by skribs I'm thinking of Captain Awesome from Chuck at this point.

Comment by WelfareEpix What? We can't hear you anymore. Comment by GameCobra Sinestra is known for being a very pompuous and stuck-up character in the book "Night of the Dragon". Whenever she met someone she would usually brag about how she was going to torture, kill or brag about their chances against her. Even though she tries to claim that Deathwing and her are no longer allies, she does try to use the fact she's Deathwing's consort as a scare tactic as well. Only one that seemed to be on even ground with her was Krasus, considering they were both Prime Consorts.

I find this achievement name very suiting to her since it makes me think she's going to retain that attitude, but considering the fact that the raid has to one shot her without dying, it would really take the wind out of her sails if you were to achieve a one-shot attempt on her.

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And i'm sure if a guild got this achievement at some point, they would love to point out to her they one shotted her without dying. What better insult to a powerful gaming character than to point out that they already humiliated her before :D "I am Sinestra, first and greatest of the Earth-Warder's consorts. I can't hear you over the sound of how Awesome i am! Comment by Moodknight finally, some real challenge Comment by Vath I can see it now.

Pally pops divine intervention. I heard the horror stories of boneheads doing that on purpose on KT at the end of a perfect undying run. Will definitely have to make sure that random guy who filled in for the raid isn't a scorned ex-guildy's alt. This would be the ultimate payback. Edit: I didn't know it was removed. Learn something new everyday. Best macro ever. Comment by KandyCane Chances are It's not exactly PuG'able any time soon. Comment by Cusco No offense, but isn't that rather ironic that Ensidia was first to get this achievement?

Comment by Cusco No offence, but I find it rather ironic that Ensidia was first to get this achievement! Comment by smyls Numen - Talnivarr EU was world 2nd to achiev this achievement, Comment by kalvizz So I've heard that Ensidia got the achv big gz to them! Comment by Rj Does anyone know if there is a website that shows if achievements have been earned? Or shows people with the most achievement points? Comment by Glowyrm Well, there seems to be something wrong there, no? My guild just got this tonight and I think we are the 31st or 32nd in the world to get it and that site lists no one as having it.

Finish This Sentence #7 – You'd Never Believe Me | Writer's Digest

It's also showing me as having half the achievement points I actually do. Comment by xvirus77 Being one of the few people with this achievement, I am quite sad there is no title or other cosmetic that comes from earning the achievement since it is one of, if not the hardest raid achievements for the beginning of the expansion.

But it is always a fun counter-attack to the nasty trade trolls! Comment by plencis You need to do it in same evening, after soft reset u cant earn it anymore. Comment by Lazurianis Ghostcrawler says: "I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am. Comment by WaffleIs4eating Whaaaat? I can't hear you. Please turn up the volume.

Comment by Sindeady If you get to Sinestra and someone dies, can you still get the achieve if you extend the lockout and one shot her with no deaths the next week or however many extensions it takes? This way you would only have to take the same group once a week for one attempt till you get it. Comment by ezek86 Anyone else think this is going to become a feat of strength in pandaria?

Comment by Vythrin Whoever submitted that Screenshot wins the internet. Comment by supernova 'on the first attempt without letting any raid members die. Comment by brudarek So I've been told you can attempt this once a day, with the 'failed' status resetting with the daily quest reset. Can't find any confirmation of that though. Anyone know if it's true? Bucket, I guess Mr. Bob bought this machine.

We was invited in for Mrs. Bucket prepped me and Bobby a cold glass of Nesquik strawberry milk. Our cobbler was still warm to the touch. I forked a piece into my watery mouth. Me and Bobby was seated across from each other, with Mrs. Bucket at our sides at the head of the table that centered the dining room.

1.

Did you guys get a lot out, is the garage clearer, now that I can put the important stuff at? Bucket looked at us boldly. Her eyes became narrow slits. It gives a similitude affect; a semblance of it. You are not you. You are it. Bucket craned her head back like a Pez dispenser, her jaw opened, revealing a set of coffee-stained dentures.

What came out was a shocking discovery. A fortune ticket rolled out from her mouth. Typewriter: I liked it! I felt I was in the garage and in the kitchen eating the dessert. Wonderful storytelling. The ending was creepy. Good job. I love being creative, especially when writing stories. There are so invigorating. It happened 3 nights ago. I was trying to sleep, almost asleep as a matter of fact, and I heard a loud bang, a loud thud, in my closet.

My first assumption was that there was a person in there, but I was wrong. I continued to lie there, nervous as hell and still as a statue. A burglar? A murderer? I soon heard shuffling in the closet; my clothes were being pushed around. The closet door was opened, but more closed than anything, so I got up as quick as a rabbit on ice and ran for my bedroom door. I made it and went to my living room. Quiet as a mouse, I listened. I then heard another bang. It sounded like the closet door opened. I heard shuffling come towards me, and then I saw a gorilla enter my living room.

It went straight for my backyard screen door and went through it like it was paper, and then it must have hopped a fence, because it was nowhere to be found when I went outside moments later. But look at this screen door; do you think I did that? I hope to be more regular with this now. Not sure of the legality of that, mean no offense. The room spun at my every motion. I can proves it even. You should quit now and drink some water to help flush your system. I smiled and raised my glass to Mal but he just shook his head and walked out.

I saw him lean over the other end of the bar and talk to someone, but lordy! The woman turned and came straight down the bar to me, leaning on the counter and staring at me hard. Now, you need to know Carla, see. She lassoed a young buck a couple years back who thought he was an actual descendent of Zeus, a verified Greek god. Seems the lad figured he would marry himself a leopard or whatever and then walk away with a fat purse. He wanted half of everything in the divorce, the house, the money coming in, and the sports cars.

Old Carla, she saw him coming long before that though. Carla, she made good money brokering trades in the city. Seven figures! Seems as if that sort of salary led to a conservation of wealth and a healthy, hidden bank account. The bartender puts a glass of water by my beer. Then she leans over so our faces are close. The typos are free of charge! I need to slow down sometimes and just do a better job of proofing. Nice job with the dialogue, and I think the MC is developed nicely.

Welcome back, Bushkill. Good to see you Bushkill I. Well …. Maybe once or twice. Welcome back bushkill! Loved the theme of both the dialogue and narration. Nor have I met a woman like her in the past as well. Something, something bad. Hold pver from Shark Attack. Trippy and Rooster were in one of the local bars off the strip. Like most locals, they avoided the strip like the plague.

Prices were too high and there were too many tourists. Both men turned their heads and looked at the beautiful older woman as she entered the bar. Her entrance brought in the evening heat. She waited a few seconds, close to the door, before she sat next to Trippy. She ordered a gin and tonic while she sat at the bar. When her drink arrived, she held the glass loosely with both hands. She still had the wedding ring tan on her ring finger. The men knew money when they saw it.

Intrigued, Rooster moved to the seat on the other side of the woman. I want to make a deal with you, Trippy. Your friend needs to leave. Rooster left a little butt hurt. Her eyes and face had no expression. Dead eyes. Trippy started to get scared. She got up from the bar, walked over to a darkened booth in the corner, and sat down. He just sat there at the bar. Trippy picked up the glass and sat in the opposite side of the booth. Make it good. Oh no! This is one messed up love… hexagon. Seems like there might need to be a part 4 sometime soon.

There was a demand for part 3 and thus a name was needed. Sorry about the confusion. The temperature had noticeably dropped since she left the bakery just over ten minutes ago. Where did those clouds come from? She picked up her pace — the rhythmic thwack of her sneakers hitting the pavement grew louder, lulling her into deep thought. Startled, Jane looked around before realizing the voice had come from behind her. She turned to see a six-, maybe seven-year-old running towards her. It felt almost impatient, as though she had been waiting on Jane.

The little girl scowled. I got it. Can you please help me? Jane looked towards the sky and noticed the clouds had grown darker. She needed another half hour to get home, which would feel that much longer if she walked it in the rain. Violet led Jane up the cracked driveway and through a vine-covered door to the side of the house. Once inside, Violet switched the lights on. Violet realized she was being observed and quickly changed her demeanor back to the happier one she had a few minutes prior.

They made their way into the kitchen, where Violet took a big recipe book off the shelves near the pantry door. Despite her small stature, the floorboards seemed to creak as she passed the pantry. My mom uses it all the time. Violet furrowed her brows together.

Jane suddenly noticed a faint light coming from under the door. Had it always been on? She made her way over, noticing that her heart had started beating a little faster. Something about this house and the little girl was just… off. Jane opened the door to find a windowless dirty room with an empty table in the middle. On the opposite walls glistened newly sharpened knives of various shapes and sizes in the fluorescent lighting.

And right next to the door stood a middle-aged woman, whose toothy smile cleaved wrinkles into her tired face. Great pacing, excellent dialogue. I was on the edge of my seat. Thanks, Fly. The ending kind of reminded me of psycho. This is a very well written piece! You really built the tension up for me here flyaway. Gave me the shivers until the end afterwards.

Her ebony eyes and coal black hair shimmered in the starry moonlight. The romantic path was certain to have seen many exchanges of ardor. Many warm lips parted in anticipation and many tears shed over broken hearts as well. Carl cursed the moon and the stars, and most of all the testosterone that rushed through his body, sending every last drop of his blood straight to his groin. He pushed at her and tried desperately to clear his head.

Jeannette wanted Carl and she would stop at nothing to have him. Her thoughts raced. What could she do? How could she make him stay with her? The emotion was raw, he saw her pain. She was telling the truth. Jeannette drew emotion from deep within and let a tear fall from her thick lashes and down her porcelain cheek. Please let me love you, my darling.

I can make you happier than she ever could. His wife, Maryanne, could it be that she was unfaithful? It all made sense. John and Maryanne had been friends for a long time. And Jeannette, so beautiful. I proved it to you too! Alex slapped Jerry on the back and even though it irked him to admit it, that scene had his jeans tightening a bit too.

Oh, Carl. You twit. I want to know where this girl was when I was in college. I was hooked total like a dumb fish. I loved this, got the old body moving. In high school, one of my friends, who was a natural-born ;;;;;;;;;;;;; encouraged me to strive for my dream.

Then in the army, was drilled into me. We got married and now have three children, , , and Eddie. This morning I got up early and looked in the mirror.


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My heart soared. Just played MadLibs with your piece, Shameless, and it was one of the best so far. Very entertaining. Eddie was the best part for me. Hands down. Another witty, funny, clever take on the prompt yet again Hack. I enjoyed this very much, perhaps maybe too much? The Arabian man shook his head. I do not believe you were at lunch.

I think you were planting a bomb in that hotel building we were holding a conference in. Tayyib pulled a photograph from his pocket and showed it to Mark. What were you doing there? Mark squinted in the candlelight to look at the photo. Tayyib laughed. You work for the government. They told you to blow up that hotel and they gave you the equipment to do it.

We will take our revenge as soon as you tell us what we need to know. Mark twisted in the wooden chair he was chained to, wondering if there was a way to get out. Tayyib was holding the candle dangerously close to his face, so close he could feel the heat from the flame reaching towards his face. My bank account is proof enough of that. The man stood up and punched him hard. Mark could feel blood running from his nose, warming his face in the bitterly cold basement. Tayyib walked over to the other side of the room. He blew out the candle. Somehow, in the dark, he was still able to make his way around the room.

He came back to Mark. Mark watched as Tayyib kicked the legs of the chair. They broke, and the entire structure collapsed on the floor in a wooden mess. He watched with growing fear as Tayyib pulled a matchbox from his pocket and struck a single match. Leaning down, he lit the edges of the wood with Mark in the middle of it. Mark watched for a few seconds in silent horror as the flames ate their way over the wood.

He struggled to break away and get out of the mess, but the chains which held him down were far too sturdy. His clothes were already catching fire and any exposed skin was burning already. His pants suddenly erupted in flames and he screamed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying desperately to get away. Mark opened his eyes again to find himself in his bedroom. He sat up and jumped out of bed, still screaming. He lay on the floor for several minutes, checking to make sure it had all been a dream.

He got up off the ground, noting that he was covered in sweat. You had me going for a while, I used to have hopeless dreams like that when I was younger. Thank Heaven I grew out of them. Very detalied writing. Those details are too specific to make them up. Nice use of diction to describe the characters, and I think the dialogue is solid. I can really see the chair and his pants being caught on fire. Nice work here TG.

Enjoyed it. Alas, it was all just another dream. Lia was six or seven steps ahead when she spun around and tore into me with her harshest glare. I was certain she was crazy. Absolutely crazy. At midnight, under the graying hemlocks, as she set her arms like wings and spun around. Lia yanked my arm so hard I fell into her, behind the Juniper bush at the end of the street. She leaned close, her magic hazels promising unicorns or pixie dust—or most likely, trouble. But with Lia, you never knew. I followed her—as always—down the dirt path, between the thickets of brush, out to the clearing at Greer Pond.

She led me around the tall grass that lashed at her nicked-up legs. The heat and humidity fought through the darkness, smothered by the clouds that hung close, amplifying the chirring in the trees. Then my shoe got stuck in the muck. Lia told me to leave it. She slowed, crouched and motioned like a lunatic for me to hurry. I hobbled over and she wiped back her crazy hair, untamed and matted but streaked with highlights from summer and sun.

Her smile lit the way across the water, rippling with mystery and skippers, to the lone figure with silver hair. Lia grabbed my arm and dug in with the giggles. Always had been. But it was Preacher Higgins. In a robe at the pond at midnight. I knew his deep rumble anywhere. He was always singing over everyone else at service, his voice so deep I thought the stained glass was going to shake right out from the frame. She was boiling over with the snorts, Preacher Higgins could always spot noise from the pulpit.

If he decided on a moment of quiet reflection we were sunk. What was he doing anyway? A crack in the clouds. He stood pale as moonlight, letting it hang, so to speak. I covered my mouth and Lia gave me a shove. Higgins threw his hands to the sky, his shriveled parts dangling in the moonlight.

Where I stood anyway, Lia had lost all control, rolling on her back and convulsing with laughter. She let out a gasp and tried to hold it back, then let out a howl that must have woken up half of Gretna. Higgins arms fell to his side and he hunched over trying to get a look at his midnight congregation. Lia was up in a blink, snatching my arm, giggling and snorting as she dragged me back through the grass.

I took one last look back at the man who baptized me, now fumbling about for his robe. His ivory white backside at the pond. You got me, hook, line, and sinker. I was expecting something completely different, and when I got something else, I smiled at the pure joy of it. Great job with voice and setting. These two may have to have more adventures in the future. Pete, do you know whose style of writing you are doing? Thanks for flattering me!

I watch as the man takes a long pull from my bottle of Jack Daniels. Twenty eight bucks, a brand new bottle. The rat bastard. So much for me enjoying any of the Jack for myself. He stands to his full height, a monster of a man. I fantasize the ceiling fan will rip into his knurly head but it misses by mere inches.

You see, four years ago, I had to flee. The law was on my ass. My ex-wife sold the property while I chilled out in Puerto Rico. Lots of nice babes down there. I bolt for the door as the explosion roars and I feel the sharpness between my shoulder blades. I see my blood pooling behind me on the tile floor as he drags me by the heel. He grabs a shovel as we cross the yard and my head spins, losing conscientious. Gosh, gollly gee,!

This is gritty stuff, John kespecially the dragging through his own blood. I can just picture his gnarled teeth and duster. Exceptional job. The control in coming back to the prompt multiple times and tying the dialogue back to that was really a testament to your skill. Oh my oh my. That took a very quick turn. It all started a month ago. By the way everything I am about to say happened during my sleep, in my dreams.

My first dream was about solving a very difficult mathematical problem, called Hodge conjecture. I never knew anything about this so called Hodge before last month. Then there was this second one, a couple of weeks later. This was about the theory of everything. As you know this is still elusive and famous guys in their sixties and seventies with a couple of Nobel prizes are sweating it to come up with one. The assumption is that there was one fundamental force when the universe began.

Now these guys say that there are four, gravity, electromagnetism, strong and nuclear forces. Am I boring you? I solved it. Ivy, Listen, what I am about to say is more earth shattering than all of the above. I found a proof that soul exists. Yes, I have seen it. No joke, the sighting was definitely scientific. It was red and pear shaped — my soul. It got out of my body and stayed for ten minutes before returning. Now, I told you I can prove, correct? This is where I need your help, my love. Will you marry me, Ivy? If our plan works out, you will be the proud wife of a super genius since Einstein himself and of course, we will be fabulously rich.

I need you to capture my sleep movements, talks and any activities that can prove the Eureka moments. Of course, we need to sleep together to make it happen. Crap, no luck this time too. No real. Extremely funny in spite of the dumb. Try listening, not telling.. I can just imagine Ivy hooking up the MC to all sorts of gadgetry, taking copious notes, and subjecting him to a barrage of experiments, totally draining whatever libido he had left.

You wrote the MC well enough that I think I know that guy! Now she longed for the poorer days, the days she and Jack struggled living in the apartment. With her chore complete she washed her hands and poured another glass of the nice bottle of red she had open on the counter, the kids having gone to a sleepover with their cousins.

Sally could still feel the soft breeze through her hair as she and Cam sat on the stoop outside the old apartment, mama blowing bubbles and Cam trying to pop them. Something keeps happening each day when I drop off Molly at the daycare center. Is something going on there, is Molly alright? Do you need me to come over? I put in my wish, which was to spend more time with Moll, like I had done with Cameron.

I promise you something happens to me when I drop her off. I never leave. The next morning was bright and crisp as winter crept between the tree branches, pushing and hurrying autumn along. They drove down Columbus Ave in the BMW crossover Jack was leasing, turning onto Houston, the thick shrubbery that covered the yard of the establishment provided privacy but felt too sterile.


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  • This is fascinating and quick to the draw. Grandparents feel the same way, could we transpose just for the day and be their age and struggle with their problems, so we understand better. Very thought provoking story.


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    Your work here is certainly intriguing and thought-provoking. I want to know how they travel through time! I did get a little turned around in the dialogue, but I got it sorted out with a closer read. Thank you! They went there together. Yea I acknowledge the characters and nicknames got a little iffy. I like the concept a lot! It really makes you think. Good story. Great idea. I think the super interest parents pay to their children now would engender this type of technology development and distribution.

    Really fun read. Plus, I finally did it with words as per count by MS word , excluding this intro. What next?

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    I bashed his head with my trusty bat, and down he fell. He laughs at the other end, the maniacal laugh that I love. I hear the chair move again, and then footsteps. Then soon after, the door knob twists, and came in view the love of my life. Weird from the word go it was and frankly I got a little excited myself. Nut houses are expensive these days. When you mention evil, you mean it.

    He was the backbone of everything! Then again, they are perfect for each other. I loved it! Thanks for the nice comments. Robert Bennington tapped his toes to the music as always. He had been invited to the gala ball organized as a charity event by The Two Hundred Club. So Robert had quietly written a check of eight thousand for the table. He walked through the crowd quickly and as the music stopped, he looked into her eyes and extended his hand.

    The orchestra started a waltz and Robert stood there slowly dancing to the music. Her hand slipped in his and within ten seconds they had danced across the room. As they danced, the crowd melted back to give them room.. Twirling and whirling and a leg lift or two, they continued and still not a word. As the music stopped, she breathed deeply and asked him,. But you knew how to guide me. A moment of silence and the band started Moonlight Serenade. Robert put his lips close to her right ear and started to sing,. The band started with another waltz and this time they slowed to the music as she nestled her head to his shoulder.

    The music stopped again, she stood on her toes and kissed him. As their lips parted Robert heard her say,. Do you have something to dry my tears with? You know a piece of writing is good when you can actually hear the music in the background! So real. Thank you rlk I was listening to the music myself, especially Moonlight Serenade.

    Sinatra made a version that puts you in dreamland or standing next to him as he sings it. I can visualize these two on the dance floor, a la Fred and Ginger, smart bowtie with lapels and tails, and a sequin dress that dusts the floor. You set the scene so perfect wish I had taken extra words to paint the scene also.

    The Master at work with a fine ensemble playing the accompaniment. Sweetly written, sweetly sung. Thank you Bushkill, one of my favorite songs of all time, Fred Astaire sang to Ginger Rodgers in the movie Roberta, [] has become an immortal song, more to the talent of Fred and Ginger rather than the song itself. Oscar Hammerstein rewrote the lyrics to jazz up the song. Jerome Kern wrote the music.

    I had a great time writing this and have seen Roberta at least six times, never tire of it. Thank you so much for the read and commenting.

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    Kerry, this piece is written so well! I could even see them in the room. Hello T Girl, I do appreciate your comments. Funny that you mention the setting and how you could see it, four others said the same thing. The clue that I gave was charity and a thousand dollars ticket. The rest you did the imagination yourself You have no idea how much that please me, thank you. Helen started it with the launching of a thousand ships. Thank you Critique, I am as big a fan as you are. I love to write them because I always place myself as the MC. That way I get to meet a host of women, God love them.

    Trying something new this week, and it may turn into a novel at some point. So, honest feedback will be greatly appreciated. As many times as I had visited the attic, I never noticed the small bay window that cut the light into neat segments and cast a faint shadow across the hatch. I sat up and squinted my eyes to focus.

    Nothing worked. I could feel the headache coming on. She opened it. Looks like your gramps and a girl. Not your grandma. They look a little damaged. Water, maybe. Did your mom ever mention anything about her? Died a few years back. Too many questions. Eames sat on the edge of the pier overlooking the lake, counting the times fished jumped to the surface.

    He lost count an hour or so back, but he remained, content that he was lost and sunburned. He fiddled with the locket in his pocket, wishing that Reyna would hurry up. There was a window of opportunity, and it was closing quickly. He stood up, stretched, and ran his fingers through his hair. How much longer will I have this hair, he thought.

    Eames felt the tuggings of regret, thinking that his mom would have already started to get worried. He probably killed his mom. She would probably die.

    But, she was once young, too. She remembers youth. She remembers love. She would forgive him. Reyna was there, but so was her father and uncle, and a few other men with long knives and guns. His feet pounded out an echo that bounced off the water below and matched the pounding in his ears. Did she give them up?

    How did her father know? Did he see any way out of this? Eames stopped hard, nearly toppling himself over. The man started a slow march, backing Eames back out toward the water. Eames withered to a stop at the end of the pier. She looked sad. He smiled, half-heartedly, took a deep breath, bent at the knees, and jumped off and into the water.

    He swam as deep as he could, the muffled sound of rifle fire bursting into the water, the bullets changing the pressure around him, popping his ears, and he swam. He swam until his breath burned in his lungs. He swam until his tears could no longer be distinguished from the water. He swam until his legs went numb. He came up only to gasp on the surface. Once he reached the opposite shore, he ran.

    I would always have her near, he thought, and he shoved his hand into his pocket to make sure the locket was still there. Pack rat. It fascinated me seeing everything he pulled out of them. Nothing in his pockets but IOUs. Mom never mentioned Gramps being in the military. Now if you made it longer would the story focus on Eames or include the backstory of the grandchildren?

    The flashbacks are very well written but I just bring it up because you might not need them since the way it reads now the heart and soul of the story lies with Eames. I could read more about him and his relationship. I have to agree with writer, it is beautifully written and one heck of a lead in to a book or novella. Without giving too much away, the story would revolve primarily around Eames and his life. This particular anecdote would be lengthened into a full picture of him and Reyna. Thanks to both of you, SK and Kerry.

    I may be guilty of some of those as well, shhhh. But in all honesty, this anecdote right here appears to be a good start for the chapter one of your novel, or perhaps just a teaser to start your novel a synopsis if you will. It had a good flow. I like it. I liked your story very much and feel that you have substantial material here to expand into a wonderful novel.