Ah...been a while. Today, I started writing again. Last summer, I wrote Part I of a story I've dubbed "The Heritage Circle". It was 94 pages of pure, unedited (as some of you read) writing...a culmination of 1-3 hours stints every day for nearly 2 weeks. It seemed to flow from me like water from a newly minted faucet. Since school began, I have not continued the story, knowing that if I started part 2, I would never finish it quickly enough or I would lose track of parts. However, in light of my summer school stint teaching 9th grade English, I know that I will not have the time I envisioned to write this summer. So, driven by ... something... I started again today. Short burst upon short burst, chapters of a page or less. Here is the beginning of Part 2: The Rise of The Hand:
"Prologue

Time has escaped its prison and flies freely down a dark path, accelerating the future that public faith has scorned, clouded by desperation and forgotten in a stale, unchanging society. In the chaos of bright lights and material wealth, amidst the hate, fear, and blood-soaked freedom, people are drowning in their own selfish maws, clawing at unfulfilling fantasies, vainly searching for what has always been there. Truth and true happiness are easily overlooked in a world where it is common to look outside and not inside oneself. While all the souls of the world go searching out in the world, the home of the heart in every one begins to grow cold and sickly. The darkness sees this and creeps slowly, methodically into each and every home, biding time, awaiting the souls to return, unsuspecting and ripe.
Deep in the womb of the Earth, the Chosen watch, desperate to warn them, but forsworn to secrecy, awaiting Time’s folly to show itself."