Welcome dear Sixers and friends to another Six Sentence Sunday as we await Hurricane Sandy here on the East Coast. Stores are out of water,batteries,you name it, and we hope for the best. Survive&Thrive is my motto so we move on to Emily, her tragedy and an important component to the story never mentioned before.
excerpt: Emily tells her children about Patrick’s insistence that she take Karate. He had wanted her to be physically capable of protecting herself. It turns out to be an idea that saves her life.
“He was in her home; Oh God, he slid the door wide open, raced to catch up with her, grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back toward the gaping door. And he was powerful, much stronger than she, a tank compared to a tricycle. Now he had her under the arms, pulling her across the threshold out on the patio, as she kicked and screamed.
Close to the water’s edge he let go and stood above her one foot on her chest, roaring like a lion with his prize.
A quick twist of her body, she grabbed his leg and kicked it from under him. He had something else on his mind and so did Emily; an eye for an eye.”
Welcome Sixers and friends to another Six Sentence Sunday and the continuing story of Emily and her sorrow.
Emily cried, waves mingled with tears as she touched Pat’s face everything soaked with salt water and blood and his eyes, his eyes were open. Her face bent close to his she listened for breathing, nothing. She felt his heart, no beating. Cradling him in the shallow waves she rocked back and forth, back and forth.
Sirens broke the silence but Emily didn’t hear them. The ambulance stopped right next to her, flashing red light bathed Emily and Pat in a surreal glow yet she didn’t lift her head; she didn’t move.
Hi Sixers and friends, last week the watcher,Clifford Lansdale set his dune buggy on a course toward Emily’s husband, Patrick. What happens next changes the course of Emily’s life. As always, I appreciate your comments.
Just a tap to send him sprawling, one tiny tap thought as Clifford Lansdale geared up high, pedal to the floor heading straight for the target. A slam in the middle of Patrick’s back sent him flying backwards onto the hood. The lawyer slid almost face to face with the windshield, his eyes already unfocused. The dune buggy drove on coming to a stop at water’s edge. Not quite what you had in mind, Cliffie, and breathing heavily, he climbed out of the buggy to get the lawyer off. Using forgotten strength, driven by an adrenalin rush, he tugged at the bloodied body until it was thrown clear landing where waves pooled over the remains of the clever lawyer, Patrick Corwin as his body swayed gently with each ebb and flow of the sea.
Hi Sixers and friends. I value your comments and thanks so much for stopping by. Last week Emily’s husband Patrick promised he’d care for her the rest of his life. He meant well.
High on his perch, the watcher Clifford Lansdale juiced on oxycontin and black coffee, saw the honeymooners on the beach. Obsessed with his Goddess Emily and his plan, he grabbed keys to the restored dune buggy he treasured and headed out for a little ride. Gunning the motor, the buggy sailed over dunes onto the flat hard packed sand. Course set straight ahead for, oh my, if it isn’t his lawyer dear Patrick Corwin jogging alone and where ohwhere is she? Ah yes, far up the beach, the lonely quiet beach with no one around and only the fierce wind making all that racket and just a tap to send him sprawling, one tiny tap. Clifford Lansdale geared up high, pedal to the floor and headed straight for the target.