The Watchers: Prologue pg. 5

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Sariel holds Baylah in his arms, wrapping his gold wings around her as he whispers, “Don’t worry love, I will return before the birth.” Leaving her behind is unbearable yet necessary. He gives her one last kiss, and turns to face Shemsial. “You will take my place while I’m gone” he says and grasps Shemsial’s right arm. Leaning closer he whispers, “Watch over my heart for me, brother.” Shemsial looks into his eyes and gravely nods his head. Sariel signals to Merik and they leap into the air. He can’t help but smile as air rushes over his face and down his body. The strength of his wings is a marvel as they bare him up higher and higher. Before the fall traveling from one place to another was accomplished by a mere thought. This ability is no longer accessible to the fallen watchers. Even so the journey to Azazel’s island will only take a few days.

Needing little rest, they fly throughout the day, but as the sun begins to set they look for a place to stay for the night. Merik points to a small cave in the side of a hill. “That will be a good shelter. Storms are coming.” Sariel looks to his right and, sure enough, dark clouds are barreling toward them. A gust of wind catches under their wings pushing them off balance. Pulling their wings in they drop and soar toward the ground. Quickly they gather wood from the surrounding forest. As Merik hurries into the cave, Sariel pauses for a moment in the center of a grove. The breeze whips through his wings and robes. He can smell the ozone in the air and feel the hair of his body rise at the coming electricity. Dropping the wood at his feet he smiles and closes his eyes. Raising his arms to the heavens, he gives himself over to the chaos of the storm. He begins to manipulate the wind around him, sending it swirling through the trees and into the nearby lake, creating a water spout. When lightning strikes a tree his senses are sent crashing back into his body. He quickly gathers the wood into his arms and runs to the cave. Merik stands in the opening givibg him a strange look. Sariel only smiles and moves past him into the cave.

Merik builds the camp fire as Sariel prepares a meal of dried fruit, meat, and flat bread. He hands Merik his portion and they sit against the cave wall, wings acting as soft cushions. With a gesture Merik lights the wood and warmth fills the cave. “Why did you do that? Stand in the storm I mean?” Merik is watching the storm as he eats. “I don’t know really. For the pleasure of it I suppose” Sariel says while pouring mead into two wooden goblets. As he passes one to Merik he notices the puzzled expression on his face, “Do you not find pleasure in the things of this world Merik?” Frowning, Merik mumbles, “I am not moved by this world as you are Sariel.” They eat in silence for a time as Sariel considers what Merik said. “Why did you fall if you find no beauty in this world?” Merik is still and silent for a moment then turning to face Sariel, he looks into his eyes, and almost inaudibly he  murmurs, “I found no beauty in heaven or earth as a watcher. I simply could not understand what it was about these humans that held all the heavens in such thrall. I could glory in nothing so I felt…apart from it all. I was hoping that coming here would change things. It hasn’t. So I serve Azazel and find satisfaction in obedience.” His stark words and cold stare strike Sariel like a slap. He cannot understand, cannot fathom, these feelings that Merik speaks of. “I honor your openness Merik.” They remain silent after this, both lost in their own thoughts. After a while Sariel rests on the cave floor, wings wrapped about his body, and falls into a fitful sleep. His dreams are filled with a feeling of foreboding, shouts, and blood, so much blood.
-LM Jones

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They got Away

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“Look! There they are!” I shouted to my dad. Hopping up and down I pointed at a group of fish swimming lazily around the middle of the little pond. We cast our lines again right into the middle of them. They ignored our bait and continued their endless circling, oblivious of our attempts to capture them. They were so close that if we’d had a net we could have scooped them up. We’d spent hours chasing those fish around. It hadn’t been a particularly nice day, as far as weather and successful fishing went, but a day spent with my dad made it special. I had become obsessed with fishing since that first time, at nine years old, I’d reeled in the biggest fish, all on my own, at the local fishing pond. But, later, I had cried as they cleaned my fish to fry up for dinner.

For years it had escaped our notice of how alike we were, my dad and I. We are both passionate readers, sharing favorites with each other on a regular basis. I remember sunday nights, laying on the living room floor in front of the TV, we’d watch Star Trek. Sometimes he would try to watch Alien after I went to bed, but as soon as I heard that intro music I was out of bed in a heartbeat, “You’re watching it without me!” I’d say accusingly. He always gave in and let me stay up to watch it too. There are so many movies that the two of us love equally and have to watch whenever they’re on: My Fair Lady, Anne of Green Gables, You’ve Got Mail, Star Wars, Conspiracy Theory, Brave Heart, and one of my all time favorites is Dances With Wolves.

Due to circumstances that are now unimportant we didn’t get to have a normal father/daughter relationship until I was grown with a family of my own. All those years, they got away, just like the fish in that pond. If only I had a net to scoop them up and bring them back to me. Well, I’ve learned it’s never too late and you’re never to old to become daddy’s little girl. Even a grown woman needs a kiss on the head at night before bed. I treasure those moments. Your love makes everything OK again, daddy. I love you.
-LM Jones

About Me

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I grew up in the south on a little red dirt road. I was a little barefoot imp with tangled blonde hair and dirt under my nails, and it was heaven. I climbed trees, caught frogs, snakes, turtles, and tramped through creeks and woods all day. No abandoned building within my vicinity was safe from my exploration. I played in thunderstorms, heedless of pelting rain or lightning. I was a little wild girl. I’m grown now, but that little wild girl lives on in my writing and in my heart.
-LM Jones

There was a Time before the Grey

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There was a time before the grey
Maybe it was blue
Like the sky on that bright spring day
warmed by the sun, lying next to you

There was a time before the grey
Maybe it was green
Like the fields where we played
Spinning stories of all the places we’d see

There was a time before the grey
It must have been gold
Too fragile a color to stay
Time has a way of making things cold

There was a time before the grey
It was blue and green and gold
The brilliant colors of youth, destined to decay
But in wistful memory we never grow old.
-LM Jones

I Was Kissed by the Moon One Dark Night

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I was kissed by the moon one dark night
I had looked upon his golden countenance
So unlike the harsh sun
Whose heat is a scornful slap

I was kissed by the moon one dark night
It was a gentle silver light
That floated around my head
A caress on my pale upturned face

I was kissed by the moon one dark night
He’s cool and ever-changing, mysterious in his ways
But I’m a fire to rival the sun
Demanding, insatiable, ready to consume the world, entirely

I was kissed by the moon one dark night
A fleeting moment of calm and silence
My bare feet in the grass, naked arms in the breeze
I didn’t resist the chill

I was kissed by the moon one dark night
The world, always more brilliant in his light
Deep shadows beckoned and promised intrigue

But I stood, alone and still,
Relishing the cool solitude, however temporary
Because inside I’m a burning chaos
-LM Jones

The Watchers: Chapter 1, Pg. 2

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

“They’re beautiful.” Sariel stood very still and let her explore him. No one had ever touched him and the sensations were overwhelming. He remembered being shocked by the sudden pain radiating from his hands. When he looked at them he realized he’d gouged them with his own nails. He had watched, in amazement, as a drop of his blood fell into the flowers before him. Amazement turned to awe as a new flower suddenly sprang from the others. It was essentially the same as the others but larger and more vivid a blue. His attention was drawn back to Bayla as she exclaimed and cradled his hand, “look how it heals!” It was true, the wounds were already all but healed with no indication that they’d been there at all. Bayla lifted his hands to her mouth and kissed each one. He remembers cradling her face then and bending until…

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The Watchers: Chapter 1, pg. 1

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

“Sariel, tell me, will we have a boy or a girl?” Bayla pulls his hand to the curve of her abdomen, a playful smile on her lips. Sariel is hit with a familiar pang of wonder as he gazes at her. He’d never thought he could find her more beautiful than he had that day in the forest. She has blossomed with pregnancy. Her gold skin is glowing and her black hair flows long and vibrant over her shoulders . Her dark eyes are bright with happiness. When he places his hand on her he can feel the life growing and each day the feeling grows stronger. For a few days now he has felt the presence of two separate lives. He smiles as his senses reach out to his daughter and for the first time their minds connect. She is just waking from a dream filled with bright colors…

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