brittaria

When you walk down to the River The wind blows calm and oh, so warm Your feelings loose and fingers quiver No conscience torn Just your soul reborn No worries of a business work day Neither of a friendship lost No fretting of a lesser work's pay Or the grocery's cost All those things are lost Fragile raindrops sent to heal us Your tender brow relieved of stress Winds that vow to never leave us, Rivers flow to bless Water to caress The snow that falls upon your lashes Dances 'round like endless joy They sing of lives returned from ashes Their song is ever coy Like a child's toy The next time you find peace in nature Don't

Britt Anderson Britt Anderson, aspiring artist and only daughter, died last night at the tender age of seventeen due to an irreversible and unforeseen heart condition. Mostly soft spoken and quite to herself in public, Britt never looked the part of a hopeless romantic artist. But anyone who knew her well enough knew how she always looked, which is my there is no photograph available. Just her description: shirts from Creative Imports, jeans with permanent marker all over them, and a pencil behind her ear. "You didn't need a picture to remember her," commented her parents. A girl with little to gain and everything to loose, she kept mostly

The twenty-forth of December, 1999 – As I hang the last and finishing touches to my Christmas tree, I can't help but think back to all the other holiday seasons I've celebrated. Christmas has always been a time to recollect lost hopes, dreams, and memories. A time to be together and in merry company with those that care. Family and friends. Spouses and children… I have been happily married for many wonderful years before my wife passed on, and have been a father to five children.  Richard, Justin, Rose, and Julie were the children that my wife brought into this world. The fifth – and by far both the youngest and oldest – was not mine…althou

Brittaria grasped James' hand with her tiny digits as they were lead up the tall, wide staircase just inside the foyer of Gotham's School for Girls. The walls were tall and the halls echoed. All the doors were shut tight and the floors spotless. Reaching the end of the hall, the older, hard nosed women unlocked the door with a skeleton key and smiled half heartedly. "I hope everything's to her liking. I'll let the two of you say your goodbyes." That said, she closed the door behind her. James took off his hat and sat in the window seat, closing the curtain to not let the gloomy surroundings leak into the room. She stood directly in front o

Piper sat up in her room, holding the small, brass bell with a wooden handle that her mother had just given her. "It's… lovely, Mother." Madeline smiled, fairly pleased with herself. She set it down. "May I inquire as to what it's for?" Madeline picked it up between her thumb and index finger and rang it loudly. It wasn't a harsh ring like Morgan's bell that Madeline carried on her person at all times. But it was loud. The door creaked open and Elena curtsied to the women. "You rang, Miss Piper?" Madeline dismissed her with a glare. Elena simply nodded without so much as an irritated expression and closed the door behind her. "Splendi

James was awoken from his slumber underneath an oak tree in Central Park when he felt the smallest tug on his shirt sleeve. The sun's rays pierced his eyes and he moved his hand to cover his eyes. "Mr. Wilson?" Brittaria tugged a bit on his shirt. "Yes, Brittaria?" "Your Highness, I made you something." James sat up and looked at her strangely. "What did you call me, Brittaria?" She sat Indian style before him. "You're a king. I must call you Your Highness or Your Majesty." James was thoroughly amused. "I am a king, you say?" She nodded. "When we came to Gotham, you welcomed me to your kingdom. You spread your arms wide and said that G

It was a chilly late afternoon on Montressor and the inn, for once, wasn't swamped with customers. Just a few days before Halloween, Sarah and Jim were in the kitchen baking cookies and washing dishes. Jim rolled up his sleeves and reached into the barrel and scrubbed the dirty bowl with a rag. "Gees, Mom. How many batches of cookies do you have to make?" Sarah smiled, popping yet another batch of chocolate chip cookies into the extra large oven. "Just this last one, Jim." "Yeah? That's what you said four batches ago." He pointed over her shoulder to a counter completely filled up with cookies of every shape, size and flavor. "You can nev

Lucy heaved a sigh as she leaned her chin upon her hand, staring at a photograph. Her room was dark, with the curtains drawn and the lights dim. Just the way she liked things: a little on the darker side and inconspicuous. Her fingers traced the face of her best friend Emma. The two hadn't known each other for long, a few years maybe. But they were very close. They sat with each other everyday at lunch. They went out to movies and dinner. They'd been in some of the schools plays and stayed up all night talking about boys, and how oblivious they are most of the time. The best of friends. She bit her lower lip and set the picture down as the

Speedy leapt onto his motor cycle and sped off down the street in downtown Gotham. He was really getting sick of not being able to enjoy a simple slice of pizza without a cloud of fan girls chasing him all over the country. He took a vacation from Steel City to get away from them, not to find them. Seeing a church at the corner, he swerved into the back alley, parked his bike, and ran full speed up the front steps. He slid to a stop in the church at the sound of his echoing footfalls. The room was completely empty, save for a priest up at the alter. The church had high vaulted ceilings and large stained glass windows. The light shone throug