(no subject)

When I was small, there was a story I wanted to hear every night. It told of a boy whose father, having been challenged by an evil adversary, rode out on the morning of his duel, never to return. It fell then to the boy and his mother to hold the family and their estate together. The boy was young but ever so brave, and like his father, he never wavered even in adversity.

I wanted to be that boy.
 
 
 
 
I looked for you tonight. It's clear and cold here, with only a sliver of Moon--and that all but set. It's as dark as can be, so you're easy to spot away there in the south. So bright. Scorching. Searingly, blindingly bright.