Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

It may be easiest not to discuss this. Politicians would prefer headlines that violence is decreasing, at least in their area, but what if violence is not decreasing everywhere, always? What then?

You read about them in history books. How military men became leaders early on, before governments were strong. How they became a rallying point for real injustice or imagined wrong. To believe in something larger than life that was often miserable for most, who were just holding on—but for how long?

As I approached the ladder, I glanced up into the black, gaping hole of the hayloft, then turned away. Something held me back. I left to search in the woods and never saw her hanging there.

Canada geese will shout their return over the river. Days longer, lighter bringing joy to Round Bald, to mountains shadowed. Mist that would hold us to winter’s core trembles with shifting molecules.

The loss of who I thought I was is difficult to accept. But I want to illuminate the cavern to make it safe for Happiness – remove the nerves of memories, indecision can leave, too – unwanted visitors turned back by orange construction barriers.