Hazer

Oh Cathy...was not expecting this at all, so not prepared to come up with a list. Let me think on it over night and I will try to post a list tomorrow. Thank you, Cathy!

cathyallheart

It's okay Marg.
Thank you everyone for entering, all the stories are very good. I think I am going to pass the torch to Hazer.

marg

.. I don't think that I can manage any reasonable attempt in the face of the contributions to date -

cathy - my apologies, but the length is too long for me right now, and your contributors are doing an amazing job - what variety and imagination - and yet each one is absolutely real - great challenge !

Hazer

If you thought this was going to be easy, you were wrong, but irrespective of our own misgivings, we're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, and my gut tells me we are running out of time. Those black clouds are looking ominous don't you think?
It's going to be a kind of bittersweet reunion if we do find him. I'm not really sure what to expect. War can do strange things to people, you know.
We may as well start looking down by the river. Didn't your friend say they thought they heard someone whistling that strange old melody down by the dock just the other night? Kind of gives you the shivers, doesn't it? Knowing that he's been that close and we had no idea?
Hey now, what's that up ahead? Did you see that? There was a little flicker of light up there on the path just beyond that big rock. Let's go check it out.
Somebody's had a camp fire here for a few days by the looks of this pile of wood. And these ashes are still pretty hot so whoever was here can't be too far away.
Listen! Do you hear it? Yeah, that's the crazy little tune he used to whistle! Do you remember the lyrics? It had something to do with the raven holding the keys. I always had the sneaking suspicion that there was some hidden meaning to that little song, didn't you?
There he is! You know, I'd recognize that walk anywhere, but, look at him, something seems off. He's either aged a whole lot or he's sick. Let's catch up to him. Okay he sees us now.
Oh man! Look in his eyes! He doesn't have a clue who we are does he? Ssshhh!
Hi Dad, it's me! We're going to take you home now, okay? Mom's been waiting. Everything's gonna be okay now, Just come with us. We're your sons, remember?

ladyhwin

The autumn leaves were falling from the huge oak trees that lined the old dirt road. Mansions sprawled beyond the trees, for a very long time ago this had been the avenue where all the wealthy folk lived.
Between two of the trees rose a simple lamp post. It had once gleamed black, but was now patched here and there with ash gray and rusty red.
Gazing up at the curved lamp bell was a little girl. She was no more than four years old. Her tiny child’s face was aglow with wonder and delight, her big blue eyes wide and her lips parted in an expression of amazement.
Twilight was falling over the deserted avenue and the glass of the lamp bell began to glint silver.
“Oh!” the little girl gasped, staring as the glass flickered mysteriously. “You must be the moon!” she whispered, clasping her hands. “My momma told me that the moon is round and silver, just like you!”
As if in answer, the lamp bell twinkled.
“My momma also told me that the moon is magical. And if you are magical, then you must be able to grant wishes, right?” the child’s eyes pleased.
There was no response.
“Well,” the little girl went on, very quietly. “I would like to ask you to grant one wish for me, because you are the moon and I am only a very little girl.” She paused and looked down, then continued. “Would you be very kind and bring my momma and daddy home again? You see, this fat man, all dressed in black came and wrapped them in a big white sheet while they were sleeping. And then he put them in his wagon and drove away and I haven’t seen them again. And then my nursie went away too and all the servants and there is no one else in the big house except me and I’m only a little girl,” she stopped to catch her breath. “So, would you please bring them back home, dear moon?”
At that moment a big black raven landed several feet away and the child smiled, irrespective of the ominous look in the bird’s eye.
“You are so thin,” she said, digging into her pocket. “Here is some bread for you.” The little girl spread out her handkerchief and some crumbs. “This is the last of my food, but you can have it, because my momma and daddy are coming home now. And I must go to meet them!” she jumped up.
“Thank you so much, darling moon,” she curtseyed and darted away over the bridge and the river, humming a melody. The lamp bell glinted mournfully and the raven croaked. Bittersweet.