Wendy sat uncomfortably on a straight-backed chair. That morning she had decided to put away her husband’s trousers which had constantly needed altering. Cancer had reduced his size dramatically, and it broke her heart with every pair she stitched. After his death she needed a new project, a new direction.

I placed the stopper in the bath tub, turned the "cold” faucet on, and adjusted the temperature using the hot water. Removing the lid from a new bottle of bubble bath, I sniffed the lavender fragrance before I poured a generous amount into the bath tub where the water splashed onto the old water-stained porcelain.

Jeremy hit the elevator button to go to the third floor. He hummed as he felt the rise. It wasn’t really a tune; it never was with Jeremy. He couldn’t sing a note and his humming was no better, but he loved to annoy anyone who was in earshot. The elevator stopped with a bump and the doors parted. He step out and turned left. He entered the ‘Thomas and Chadwick at Law’ offices and tipped an imaginary hat at the secretary.

As Robert tries to understand and discover the secret of who this mysterious woman is, she takes him back in time to remember who he use to be.

He soon finds that the mystery of this woman, is in fact connected to who he once was. And in finding himself, the secret of the woman also unfolds. 

What was it like in Hell on that first Easter morning, after the Devil thought he had killed the Son of God...only to find out that he fell right into His plan. Welcome to my mind, this is how I see it.

The lunch bell rang. The din of chairs screeching, student chatter and books slamming echoed in the classroom.

“Peter Mason, I’d like a word with you in my office over lunch.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Father, let me take the Sea Hawke. I can bring home more fish.”

“Son, it’s one thing to go out past the bay on your own in the Mermaid, but you need more experience with the Sea Hawke. The Sea Hawke is much too big for you to handle on your own.”

“But, Father...”

Historian Albert Winslow sat at his desk in a sparsely furnished London office. Using two large wooden tweezers, he gently unrolled the manuscript. Faded calligraphy on tea coloured paper revealed its age and fragility. With a magnifying glass he studied the almost legible signature confirming the author, John Keats.

She stood silent in the shadows as she watched for her quarry, the demon that had struck such a blow to threatened her heart. Though anger tried to force its way to her mind, she remained calm.

Robert McClarnie, a forty-year-old Vice President of a cutting edge communications technology corporation has found himself tired of life. Working sixty to seventy hours a week, with no time for his wife or two kids, he has sacrificed everything that he once loved, in hopes to pursue a 'good life'. In doing so, he has completely lost himself.

But tonight, when Robert lays his head on his pillow, he will enter through a door.  A spiritual demention; a realm, hidden to the eyes of men, will draw him in to come face to face with a mysterious woman who holds the key to helping him discover his purpose, his vision, his reason for being alive.

Sarah struggled to breathe. She had suffered from asthma for most of her forty four years. Her nebulizer had always eased the breathlessness. Not this time. Oh God, help me! What’s happening? She forced herself to concentration. In…out. In…out.

The smell of fresh coffee teased my nostrils. I entered Daisy’s Café below the row of offices that overlooked a noisy intersection on Ninth Street.

Daisy’s beaming smile greeted me. “Morning, Dave. The usual?”

Carla answered her cell phone after the second line of her special ringtone “Nobody Weird like Me”, Travis’s favorite song. “Hi, Travis, what’s up?”

One Hundred Twenty-Two Steps to the Floor of the Rainforest: the sign read at the beginning of the narrow track.

My husband checked his cell phone. “Are you sure about this? There’s no reception up here, so I doubt if there is any at the bottom.”