He didn’t know whether to love or hate it. She had even run her hands through his fur. She had knelt beside him, whispered to him and told him that it wasn’t his fault. He had dreamt the night before, while sleeping on that bench. The bones of his cheeks vibrated, threatening to move and realign. Please, he whispered to himself and clutched his hands to his face. The sorrow in his heart roused the creature inside him from his sleep. Each one bloomed from years of her guidance. Her scent mingled with the scent of the flowers. He wished she was really there, to show him forgiveness for what he had done. In that garden, on the bench she had there, it was as if he could almost feel her there. Days turned to night, and then night turned to day again, and it all didn’t matter. It was red, freshly picked from his mother’s favourite part of the garden. He reached down into his pocket with his small hand and touched the rose that was in there. He could hear his father’s heartbeat speed up. He wished with anything that he could tell him how sorry he was. He watched the man who was once his father.
Why should it be? Children don’t kill their parents. He knew the wreath on the top said ‘Mum,’ but his name was not on the card that went with it. Perhaps he should see the damage he had caused. He still saw each new day, but now with different eyes. Eternally sleeping and forever gone, just like he was. Not out of sorrow, but out of guilt and shame and the blame. The black hearse pulled up alongside them, but he didn’t look. It was his fault, but it did not stop the tugging inside his chest. They all stood in a small group, but he stood to the side. They stood on the pavement, but not together. He was the thing in the shadows that stared in through the darkness. He stood on the outside looking in through some kind of invisible barrier, one that used to keep him safe, but now, it only kept him out.
Without it, I’d just be a shadow in a vast sea of authors. To my street team, for all the shares and promotion you do for me. To Terrie and Kimberly for your continued support, encouragement and endless supply of book teasers. To Angela, for all the work you do for me. Thank you to Kellie for my amazing cover. Without your care and support, my writing would not have made it this far. Join my mailing list for news, contests and exclusive content click here.Īs always, my dedications first go to Tony and Cynthia. Written permission may be obtained from the author. All rights reserved, including the right to publish this book or portions thereof (except for reviews, news media reports, brief quotes with attribution, and purposes of promotion of this book or other novels by Mason Sabre) in any form whatsoever. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.Ĭover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by DesignĬopyright © 2015 by Mason Sabre. All characters in this novel are fictitious.
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