A King Fit For A Queen by Nelomaxwell

I walked, along the riverbanks. I watched the silver sky illuminate its path, or was that the path that illuminated the sky. I was looking for something, waiting, but for what I knew not. However I knew I must wait, there was something here that required patience. I sat down on the muddy bank and looked at the river, after a while a young woman came with a small gleaming jar a little ways down from me. She regarded me with curious eyes, eyes that knew things that I did not. I lie down on the bank and closed my eyes. The voice said 'wait by the river’. I awoke to the sound of approaching footsteps. I sat up and our eyes met.

"Why are you waiting by the river?" She asked.

"I'm not sure, something told me to wait here, but for what I don't know."

She looked around her and then asked "Would you like some water?" I looked at the river and then back at her. "Sure why not, I'm sure what I’m waiting for will show up." she put down her ornate jar and sat beside me. From a leather bag she pulled out two cups. She poured me a drink and then poured one for herself. As I put the cup to my lips our eyes again met and when I drank I knew what she knew. I saw lifetimes, I had lived and she was in all of them. Friend, Confidante, Partner, Teacher, Lover. At that moment the oddest sensation came over me. "Would I be wrong to kiss you?" I asked. This was not my normal way of doing this, I was never forward. And she replied. "No you wouldn't, you'd be perfectly right." When our lips met I had known intimacy water shared with fish or birds shared with the sky, or flowers shared with the sun. When we stopped I asked her. "Would you mind staying with me for a while until I find what I’m looking for?" She patted my hand and smiled. "Sure, I could use the company." I smiled at her and looked back at the river. "Thank you." she patted my hand again and said “No thank you." The night came cold and deep and l looked at her and asked "Would you like me to keep you warm?" She inched closer to me and said "Let's keep each other warm." I smiled and she smiled back, we slept there that night on the bank. A sleep so peaceful so serene so familiar, that I was sure I had done it many times before and hoped to do it many times again. When the day broke I sat up and stared at the silvery sky, I looked down at my companion and felt something so profound it nearly brought me to tears. Then out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of it. Gleaming in the river, floating slowly down ward. Kissing her on the forehead, I leaped head first into the water; this was it I was sure. I grabbed it and found it to be a crown, it was battered and tarnished in some places but it was still a crown, as I began my trek back to the shore I was pulled under, the river had become violent and turbulent I couldn't get to shore, not back to her, until I felt a hand grab mine. I looked up and she said "Come on pull." I struggled against the current and then heaved myself out. The crown and I sprawled on the floor, she helped me up and said "You made it, I knew you would." I gave her a puzzled look as she walked over to the crown and dusted it off. "I have been waiting for this for a long time." She placed it on top of my head. "What do you mean?" I asked as she picked up her jar, reversed it and placed it on top of her head. I had not noticed it before but it appeared to be a crown of sorts like mine. "Come I’ll will explain everything to you once we get home." She laced her fingers in mine and led me to a far structure jutting out of the earth like an odd triangle. "Home?" I looked at her and said she returned my gaze then nodded "Home."

Bye Bye Baby by Charmaine de Lange

                    It was one of those warm spring mornings in Penton, with doves cooing and sunlight filtering through the huge sycamore trees that lined the streets, when a young man walked up the small garden path leading to the Bast’s house. It was a quaint little structure, whitewashed, with rose bushes lining the front, green grass surrounding it, and a huge oak peeking its head out behind the roof. Maykel couldn't remember when last he had seen such an inviting looking home, since his last few months had been spent in the grey streets of New York City. But now, now he was here in Penton, a quiet little town with friendly people and it served as county for the neighbouring villages. He was at the front door now and raised his hand to knock.  Rap, rap, rap. The doves continued their song in the background.

“Good morning there!” Maykel turned to see a short slender woman with a washing basket propped on her left hip. “Haven't seen you around here before,” she smiled and extended her free hand, “the name's June, June Bast.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Bast? I am Maykel Angel a colleague of your husband.” He took her proffered hand. “He told me to drop by this morning to drop off some papers.”

She let out a short laugh and her short blond curls bounced on her shoulders. “My husband will be back within the hour, he had to meet a client, said it was urgent. I'm sure he'll be back soon.” She pushed open the front door and beckoned him to follow. “Some tea while you wait, Mr Angel?”

“No thank you, I just had a cup with break fast.”

“Ah! But as I said before, haven't see you around town, did you just move here?” She shifted the basket of clothes onto her other hip.

“Yes, recently came from New York.”

Surprise lightened her face. “Strange having a big city boy here in our little town. Would you like to take a seat sir? I need to hang out this washing before noon; forgive me for leaving you here a minute.”

“Oh. Not at all, did you want some help perhaps since you have been carrying that basket for some time now.”

She shook her head. “No sir you are a guest. I'm fine; used to carrying loads of laundry.” She let out another little laugh. “Take a seat, I'll be back in a few minutes, just holler if you need anything.”

He watched as she made her way down the hallway then disappeared from sight and finally he heard a door close somewhere further in the house. In the silent living room he could barely hear the birds outside, and the morning sunlight filtered softly though the white lace curtains. He stood, and walked over to the window, looked out at the front garden and asked himself what he was doing here in the middle of nowhere. As he turned to face the room a shelf with photographs caught his eye and he made his way over the cabinet. There were four photos, one with June and her husband, a second with June and a little boy, a third with only the child in it and the last photograph was one of the entire family. Maykel carefully picked up the photograph of the boy, not recalling Tavor mentioning he had a son.

“That’s our son, Dorian,” June said from across the room, smiling like a proud mother. “He’s seven years old now and a big boy.”

“He looks a lot like his father.” Maykel placed the photograph back where it belonged. “Your son isn’t home at the moment?”

“No he’s gone away for a little while.” She replied while smoothing down the front of her dress. She looked up directly at Maykel with a bright smile. “Now are you thirsty yet? Come through to the kitchen and let me give you some tea with cake.”

He started protesting but she was already walking down the hallway and he could only follow her down the bright passage leading deeper into the house. As he passed an open doorway he saw that it was a playroom with toys scattered over the floor and books lying open on a small table. Dorian’s playroom?

The kitchen was a brightly lit room with fine lace curtains and the heat of the golden morning sun streamed through them. June was bustling around the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove and beckoning for Maykel to take a seat at the kitchen table. She then placed a chocolate fudge cake on the table and cut off a slice neatly and precisely.

Her face brightened again as she placed the slice onto a side plate and handed it to her guest. “Hope you like chocolate; I baked it this morning early so it’s fresh.” Maykel nodded in response and watched her pour out two cups of tea, then place a milk jug and sugar pot in front of him.

“Thank you.” A long silence continued, and Maykel took out his pocket watch to check the time. The silence lengthened even more. “So,” he said as he looked up from his watch, “you mentioned your son was away. Where at?”

“Hmm… he’s visiting far away. He’s a good boy, his momma’s little boy.” Her eyes shone with glee. “You know he is first in his class, got a smart brain like his daddy.” “He’ll be back soon.” Smiling. “Yes he left his playroom in a mess but he’ll clean it once he gets home.” Laughter. “Ah, that time Dori fell and scraped his knee out back we had to take him to the doctor, but else he’s a healthy boy. I’m sure he got those genes from my poppa, he was strong like that.” Silence. A door slammed.

“Oh, that must be Tavor, I’ll fetch him and bring him through.” She rose from her seat and exited the kitchen. Maykel heard voices in the hall. He got up from the table and walked over to the sink and put his cup and plate down carefully. As he looked out of the window he listened to the muffled sounds coming from the front of the house. A grey block of granite? He couldn’t make out what it was behind a large rosebush. He leaned closer to the window to see better.

“Maykel! Morning, and I apologize that you had to wait so long I was unfortunately called out on a very important errand.” Maykel turned abruptly to face Tavor Bast who seemed to loom over his petite wife.

“Oh I understand, your wife explained already about some urgent call this morning. I just came to give you those documents for the Peterson Case.” He handed the folder he had been carrying all this time to Tavor. “I need to leave now though, my apologies as well for leaving so soon. Thank you Mrs. Bast for your hospitality.” The two men left the kitchen and made their way to the front door where everyone greeted each other. As Maykel stepped outside and walked down the garden path, he pondered over the small grave hiding behind the rose bush in the Bast’s garden. Was it possible he had seen letters spelling out Dor… Bast?