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The Romans invoked omens of beneficent luck, and as the sun rose, the eagles became visible, screeching patronizing tunes to hearten the soldiers in battle. There existed that specific comforting element in the somber note held in Turner's gloves. He breathed in through his nostrils heavily, savoring the smell of victory: ink on fresh paper. His retaliation against Phineus began here, hidden among the poisonous words withheld by the note. It was sad, really, that anybody had offended his pride; they could expect nothing but a savage counter-attack. He would deliver the fateful paper that very evening.
Turner deftly completed the message, and a strange, hybrid handwriting remained imprinted on the leaf of paper. 'A friend', he had concluded as the ink mercilessly stuck to the accursed sheet. He stood up from his chair, leaving the note on his desk. Emptying some water from a bucket into a basin, he rinsed his hands thoroughly and wiped them on a crimson towel. He heard an acute bell chime which always signified that the day had progressed into lunchtime. He looked around the room again, pausing, as if he'd forgotten something, then a bird-like cacophonous series of chimes rung throughout the church again, and Turner determinately marched towards the dining room. ** Mick's wife, Debbie, hugged her daughter maternally again before releasing her. "Take good care, Jeannie. You're very lucky that Andy McDonough has a piece of his mind for you. Thank God for that man, Jeannie. Where would you and I and Mick be without his help?" Debbie said. She seemed happier, a glint of hope always present in her eyes. "I know, mother. I'll be very careful." Jeannie smiled beautifully. "Although I'm sure I won't have anything to fear as long as I don't stray from the McDonoughs." "God forbid anything happens on your first trip to the city, Jeannie." Debbie said, somewhat unsettled. She was nervous about something, as if she were having a premonitory feeling about a disaster. Shrugging it off, she kissed her daughter on the cheek once more. Debbie and Jeannie had always been attached, as much as a mother and daughter could. Debbie loved Jeannie with all her heart, although there existed a certain coldness within Debbie's daughter that disconcerted her from time to time. During her whole life, Jeannie had maintained impartiality towards both of her parents, never taking sides in any argument. It always struck Debbie as unnatural, and she often wondered if she understood her daughter at all. "Until next week, mother." Jeannie said, waving away as she began her walk to the McDonough's house. Debbie felt a tear slide down her face as she watched Jeannie fade into the distance, carrying her small case of clothes. Debbie walked into the house, sat at the table and began crying freely. When she was done, she contemplated fondly a picture of Mick. Although she was alone now, she didn't feel solitary. Knowing that Devine would help her and her husband to restore their relationship comforted her. She really loved Mick, she now realized. Not as much as she loved Jeannie, but she loved him nonetheless. Debbie had changed in the past week. She had almost completely ceased her spiteful, biting criticism and she had replaced her acid-filled heart with an affective warmth. Devine had visited once to encourage her, noting with pleasure the improvement of her character. Truly, things were looking better. ** Father Dole brusquely opened the door to Turner's room. Where the devil is that man? he wondered. Three times he'd rung the lunch bell, and Turner hadn't arrived, so that Dole had set out to look for him outside. When Dole found no trace of him there, he'd come back to Turner's room. And he wasn't here, either. Dole was in the process of closing the door when his eye glanced over the paper on Turner's desk. He reopened the door and curiously approached the desk. Pandora, had she restrained her inquisitiveness, had she been able to snuffle the licking flame inside her with a douse of common sense, would have avoided a vast array of problems for humanity. Curiosity, evil and malignant curiosity, which plagues mankind with its rush of knowledge, has embittered existence. Was it not curiosity that killed the cat, that invulnerable animal of nine lives? Such interest in prying enlightens man, only to afflict him with a deep, corroding remorse. All this and more, Dole remembered as he hung in balance, deciding fate by which way he fell. His morals, his priestly conscience and fear of God finally decided for him. He slowly withdrew from the room once more, gently closing the door and self-chastising himself for nearly falling to temptation. What irony, that his rule-abiding and good sense would restrict him from averting a disaster. Had he but read the note, held it in his hands and repudiated it as if it were his own creation. And then he would have taken the vile note and stopped the madness which would ensue. How cruel that a man bred by God fell prey to prudence! |
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The Romans invoked omens of beneficent luck |
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Emptying some water from a bucket into a basin, he rinsed his hands thoroughly and wiped them on a crimson towel |
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her bed almost empty |
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Almost empty? |
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He fitted his slippers into his feet and lighted a lamp. |
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I would like an explanation on how one fits slippers into one's feet. |
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Probably shouldn't have outlined the bridge of the nose so much. Makes it look fat. |
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but since it was Turner, I didn't really spend any time thinking about it. It didn't challenge my perception of him. |
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I would say Devine is the antipode of the author: devout but not preachy (no offense D ). |
Zephyr wrote: |
he modified the poll after I posted that china... does that mean you meant option 5? |
Masterweaver wrote: |
WOW. I must say, you have written quite a story!
Though you might have portrayed the criminal as a bit more desperate, but that's just me. |
chinaren wrote: | ||
Oops, yes. I just can't count! |
D-Lotus wrote: | ||||
Ok, I will keep this change in mind, China. That means that there is curently one vote in favor for option 1, and two votes in favor for option 5 (including yours). |
Mother Goose wrote: |
I voted for 1 but I still don't understand how the priest is supposed to investigate Debbie's pregnancy. Anyway, wouldn't the police have done that already, or are they so incompetent they didn't bother with an autopsy? |
D-Lotus wrote: |
By the way, you guys are destroying all my plot points, the way the votes are going. It is frustrating me, but I'll figure a way out to adapt them. Curse storygames, and their unpredictable results. |
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