Susan Catalano

The kiss grew into so much more than anything that had come before, unfettered by a time that strived to contain passion, born from perceived loss and glorious gain.

The world he thought he knew had become an odd thing, twisting time and purpose. But it had remained an unfair universe in the end.

Merry__ mind devolved into chaos. Ideas evaded her. Words chased one another into meaningless jumbles. Her breath came in shallow gasps as the ghastly image of William__ lifeless body twisting in the wind, solidified and held.

He peered into the night-dark windows of the afflicted girls, whispering names and stirring fits into their dreams until their own screams awakened them. The girls concocted fantastic stories of witches and curses and torture at the hands of specters. More accusers joined their ranks without his nurturing, puppets of their own envy. Such imagination, such dedication to the destruction of their own. And all in his name. It touched his dark soul.