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Message-ID: <58602asstr$1234966202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.borked.net>
Reply-To: dcrimson@yahoo.com
Subject: {ASSM} Grace Summer (MF, rom, preacher-girl) {Crimson Dragon} [3/3]
Lines: 109
Date: Wed, 18 Feb 2009 09:10:02 -0500
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Grace Summer
(MF, rom, preacher-girl)

Synopsis:
   Flannery is a bit of an outsider in a sleepy small town, but when
   Rebecca, the preacher's daughter, drifts through his life, the
   world can never be the quite the same. Sometimes it's important to
   know who your friends are.

As usual, the following story may contain scenes of sexuality,
nudity, and adult situations. Viewer discretion is advised.

This is an original work of fiction copyrighted by the author,
Crimson Dragon. Please do not use it as if it were your own. Do not
redistribute, or archive, without written permission.

Big thanks to Denny, who puts up with my silliness, and proofs the
stories so wonderfully, making them the best they can be. And also,
of course, thanks to Munk, who reads the stories and supports me,
even when she doesn't fully understand my musings. More importantly
she puts up with *all* my silliness and has done so forever.

Any resemblance to persons, places, or times of anyone or anywhere
living or dead, is purely coincidental. Those who know differently
are unlikely to admit their involvement.

Feedback welcome at dcrimson@yahoo.com

  - Crimson
    (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Crimson_Dragon/www
http://members.tripod.com/files/Authors/Dr/wwwagon_Of_Crimson


========================================================================
                               Grace Summer
                                 Epilogue
========================================================================
                              (c) June 2008
                              Crimson Dragon
                           All Rights Reserved
========================================================================

As I read the article in the bright sunlight, the name did not
immediately register. Ezekiel Penn, killed in a prison riot.

Ezekiel Penn.

I sighed, unsurprised. Thought I'd heard that Bobby and Vincent had
turned their lives around after Zeke had been incarcerated those
many years ago. But Zeke?

I wouldn't miss him.

Pushing myself up from the park bench, I strode down Simcoe Street
somewhat aimlessly. I always had felt somewhat lost in the city, one
amongst millions. Sometimes I missed the closeness of small town
life, even if I wasn't sorry to leave it.

A Presbyterian church stood at the corner of Simcoe and King and as
I passed it, the sound of a choir drifted to the sidewalk above the
noise and bustle of the surrounding city.

I hadn't stepped foot in a church in years.

Slipping through the oversized oaken doors, I sat at the back.

The service was ending, nearly as I sat.

The choir sang Amazing Grace as the congregation filed out.

The music flooded back memories of a melancholy girl, singing as an
angel on the shore of a distant river. It remains the most beautiful
experience in my life. I lay back my head, lost to memories.

"Can I help you? Are you all right?"

The girl had a British accent, dressed in the robes of the
Presbyterian clergy. I raised my head and opened my eyes, smiling.
The choir was long finished. Other than the girl, and a priest at
the front altar closing up the bible in front of him, I was alone in
the church.

"Thank you for the memories," I said simply, rising to my feet.

The girl looked puzzled, but her face reminded me of Rebecca.

"Go with God," she smiled.

I remained unconvinced of the benevolence of her higher being, but
something had led me to this place with the choir and the memories.
Today of all days.

Something ethereal, beyond the here and now, whispered to me that
Rebecca had never found what she sought.

As I stepped back outside amongst the elms, my thoughts captivated
by that hot and humid summer, I resolved that it was time to return,
perhaps visit the church, the river, the elm, if it still stood, and
find her, wherever she had gone.


========================================================================
Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Crimson_Dragon/www
http://members.tripod.com/files/Authors/Dr/wwwagon_Of_Crimson
========================================================================

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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