Lucias: “I just have a good feeling about this one.” His eyes forced shut by the sand caught up in the last swirl of wind coming off the ocean. His tan was as deep as the holes in the side of his face. A voice drifted closer and Lucias cowered.

“But Lucias my son, why should I trust you?”

Lucias: “She would do anything to save her son. Anything.” Not far from their place on the sand sat a slight of a woman sobbing. Holding her newborn baby, she cried silently.”

“This is your last chance Lucias.” stated the voice in the wind. “If you do not succeed, you will also meet your death and visit the rest of your family in hell.”

Lucias could not think. The voice hears everything, spoken or unspoken. He raised his head to see the woman lifting the small child to her breast, concentrating on his own childhood. He could not fail. He had seven days.

About wigsbabe

Never be the Mediator... be the writer.
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