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Edge of Thorns 2- Pt 23Part 23
They want to hear a dream, now that I've said I had one. I'm a writer; I should be able to come up with something on the fly.
Nathan shrugged. "A weird one," he admitted honestly, quickly running ideas through his mind. A story concept he'd been working on popped into his head, and he ran with it. "It was like a gender-swapped Snow White with some Hamlet overtones. The king had mysteriously vanished and was replaced by his brother, who wanted the prince dead so he could take over the kingdom. Snow White was male, and he was a blind albino, and the seven dwarves were seven human lycanthropes." He shrugged again. "Very weird."
"Fascinating." Enya took a sip of her coffee and smiled over the rim of the mug. "Sounds like a great foundation for a book. Considering it?"
Nathan smiled back and helped himself to his own coffee, nodding. "I've jotted a few ideas, but this is a nice solid something I can work with." And he hoped the angels accepted this dream instead
Edge of Thorns 2 - Pt 22Part 22
Nathan shook his head. "I can't," he repeated, looking at the floor. "I... I know she isn't Marni, but after... after what I did..." He wrapped his hand around his arm. "Not now, Gabriel. I can't now."
The angel sighed and walked towards him. "Okay." He placed his hand on his shoulder and guided him back into the living room. After a brief glance at Enya curled up on the mattress tucked up on one side, as if she'd expected another body beside her Gabriel moved Nathan to the armchair again. He waited until he sat, then brushed his fingers over his eyelids. "Sleep."
And Nathan did.
Opulent. And very beautiful. Those were the first thoughts that came to his mind as he looked around the chamber. There were no windows, no doors, but silks of various golden hues draped over the walls like curtains. Four pillars stood in the room like sentinels, apparently more about aesthetic than support. He approached one and ran his hand over the
Edge of Thorns 2 - Pt 21Part 21
Gabriel. I should call Gabriel...
He pressed his nail hard into his skin, focusing on the pain in his arm instead of the pain in his heart. His feet seemed to move of their own accord as he plodded back into the kitchen. Nathan stopped at the sink and stared at the knife, then at the unfinished sandwich on the counter, then at the knife again. He closed his eyes and turned around, sliding down to the floor. He finally released his arm. Shakily, he traced the name out with his finger on the tile...
A numbing, painful cold surrounded his wound as he opened his eyes and looked up. Gabriel held his wrist, but stared at him, the red glow from his eyes illuminating the gentle sadness on his face. Nathan looked away, and the angel sighed. "What happened?"
"Nothing," the writer answered reflexively, then frowned and shook his head. "Bad memories." He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked towards Gabriel again just as he sat down beside him.
"Tell me," the angel commanded
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