A CROSSBOW CHRISTMAS
Loneliness is a hard task master. Can Carina write herself a better Christmas?
You know how it is, life breaks your heart, but you survive. You work at stitching things back together and after a while it begins to seem better. Until sometime in the quiet curve of the day or in the middle stretch of a lonely night, you realize blood is still seeping. Just a little. Seeping out between the stitches. Drowning you in sorrow.
Carina read what she had written, frowned, then closed the journal. Geez. Talk about a pity party. Even my teenage journal wasn’t this bad.
Turning the page, she wrote, Dear Lord, please direct me back to my happiness. This pity stuff is pathetic.
She underlined the word pathetic three times for emphasis, then she pushed the pen into the little elastic holder on the side of the journal and stared out the picture window at the still-green grass of the front lawn.
There had been very little winter in West Texas this year. January, that’s when the freeze will hit. Maybe even February, but not December. Nope, not December. No white Christmas for us. Not in Landon.
Order now at www.5Princebooks.com/annswann.html
or directly at Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BFRV2K8Z
