Aloha from Maui. I'm Stan Morris, the author of eight ebooks.
Here is a short sample of my writing.
They found the cave just before it began to rain. It wasn’t really a cave, but it was more than a depression; deep enough to get out of the rain, but shallow to the point that no animal would endeavor to build a home. Douglas made sure Susanna and Petal were comfortable, and then ignoring the drizzle, he left the cave and hurriedly gathered the oldest, driest brush and the flattest rocks he could find. He built a fire around the rocks just inside the hollow, set his pans out where they would catch the most rain, and then moved to the back as the drizzle became a downpour. Within minutes the low clouds drifting by had reduced visibility outside the cave to not much more than an arm’s length.
Petal was tired and grumpy, but she rejected Douglas’ suggestion that she lie down and sleep.
“I’m not tired,” she said, her face scrunched into a ferocious frown.
“Well, lay down anyway.”
“I don’t want to.”
Douglas was tired, too, and his stump was aching. He dug into his duffle bag, pulled out a blanket and made a crude bed.
“Lay down.” His voice was impatient and demanding.
“No.” Petal’s eyes were moistening.
When he grabbed the girl’s shoulders, she began to cry. He forced the girl onto the blanket and pushed her head down.
“Owww,” she cried when her head rubbed against a stone under the wool.
She sobbed harder. Douglas yanked off his coat and rolled it up.
“Lift up,” he ordered, and Petal wearily lifted her head so he could place the coat beneath.
Susanna did not intervene. She knew by then that Douglas would take care of Petal in his own rough manner. Petal’s sobs gradually diminished to sniffles.
“You’re mean,” the little girl mumbled accusingly.
“Yeah, that’s me. Mister Mean.”
Susanna was weary, too, but she couldn’t help smiling at their interaction. Within minutes, Petal was asleep.
“You think it’s okay to build a fire?” she asked.
“They won’t be looking for us in this weather. It’s a good time to relax, get some decent sleep.” He leaned against the stone and closed his eyes. Susanna did the same.
After an hour, he roused and retrieved the pans, combined them into one, and set it on the heated rocks. Then he chopped the remains of the roasted rabbit into tiny pieces. When the first bubbles appeared, he shook the rabbit pieces into the pan along with some gooseberries, hazelnuts, and onions. He stirred the soup with his knife, causing Susanna a moment of disquiet when she remembered that the knife had used to kill a man, only days before.
The aroma from the soup woke Petal. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, but didn’t speak. Douglas used a big spoon to ladle some soup into a smaller metal pan. He stirred it until it cooled, and then he handed the pan and spoon to Petal. When the girl had finished eating, she lay down and scooted forward until the top of her head was pressed firmly against his thigh. She wiggled until she got comfortable, and then she fell asleep again.
I'm Stan Morris, the author of eight ebooks.
Here is a short sample of my writing.
They found the cave just before it began to rain. It wasn’t really a cave, but it was more than a depression; deep enough to get out of the rain, but shallow to the point that no animal would endeavor to build a home. Douglas made sure Susanna and Petal were comfortable, and then ignoring the drizzle, he left the cave and hurriedly gathered the oldest, driest brush and the flattest rocks he could find. He built a fire around the rocks just inside the hollow, set his pans out where they would catch the most rain, and then moved to the back as the drizzle became a downpour. Within minutes the low clouds drifting by had reduced visibility outside the cave to not much more than an arm’s length.
Petal was tired and grumpy, but she rejected Douglas’ suggestion that she lie down and sleep.
“I’m not tired,” she said, her face scrunched into a ferocious frown.
“Well, lay down anyway.”
“I don’t want to.”
Douglas was tired, too, and his stump was aching. He dug into his duffle bag, pulled out a blanket and made a crude bed.
“Lay down.” His voice was impatient and demanding.
“No.” Petal’s eyes were moistening.
When he grabbed the girl’s shoulders, she began to cry. He forced the girl onto the blanket and pushed her head down.
“Owww,” she cried when her head rubbed against a stone under the wool.
She sobbed harder. Douglas yanked off his coat and rolled it up.
“Lift up,” he ordered, and Petal wearily lifted her head so he could place the coat beneath.
Susanna did not intervene. She knew by then that Douglas would take care of Petal in his own rough manner. Petal’s sobs gradually diminished to sniffles.
“You’re mean,” the little girl mumbled accusingly.
“Yeah, that’s me. Mister Mean.”
Susanna was weary, too, but she couldn’t help smiling at their interaction. Within minutes, Petal was asleep.
“You think it’s okay to build a fire?” she asked.
“They won’t be looking for us in this weather. It’s a good time to relax, get some decent sleep.” He leaned against the stone and closed his eyes. Susanna did the same.
After an hour, he roused and retrieved the pans, combined them into one, and set it on the heated rocks. Then he chopped the remains of the roasted rabbit into tiny pieces. When the first bubbles appeared, he shook the rabbit pieces into the pan along with some gooseberries, hazelnuts, and onions. He stirred the soup with his knife, causing Susanna a moment of disquiet when she remembered that the knife had used to kill a man, only days before.
The aroma from the soup woke Petal. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, but didn’t speak. Douglas used a big spoon to ladle some soup into a smaller metal pan. He stirred it until it cooled, and then he handed the pan and spoon to Petal. When the girl had finished eating, she lay down and scooted forward until the top of her head was pressed firmly against his thigh. She wiggled until she got comfortable, and then she fell asleep again.