Two.5 from Eric

By Eric Smith

Two short stories and a sneak peak of the Novel Bayard's Will. The first story is about a retired soldier dealing with loss and the second is about an aspiring writer dealing with ruthless rejection by the one person who mattered most to her.

Bayard's Will is a science fiction fantasy story set in a dark ages type world. This sneak peak is about 7,000 words long and includes the entire prologue and first chapter. Psionic powers and abilities are not uncommon in the world of Bayard's Will.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Smokescreen Publishing
• Release date: Mar 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458108098

Eric Smith

ERIC SMITH is an author and literary agent from Elizabeth, New Jersey. When he isn't working on other people's books, sometimes he tries to write his own. He enjoys pop punk, video games, and crying during every movie. He lives in Philadelphia with his wife and best friend, Nena, and their son, Langston. WWW.ERICSMITHROCKS.COM

Book preview

Two.5 from Eric

By Eric Smith

Rev 1.0

Copyright Eric Smith 2011

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

STORY ONE

Beat Up Old Recliner

Here I am, sitting in a beat up old recliner, the only piece of furniture in a mostly empty house. I’ll be fifty years old next month. I take another drink of my beer and I think about that for a few minutes, letting it roll around on my tongue, savoring the taste of the word fifty along with the beer. I’m not sure which is the bitterer of the two.

The house wasn’t always empty, but the fact that it’s empty now suits me. This old house and I are a lot alike. I haven’t the energy to buy anything else even if I cared. Its emptiness seems to reflect the emptiness in my heart, the hole where good things used to be. The overgrown lawn could be my face, a face that hasn’t seen a razor in a week.

There was a time when I was happy, just like there was a time when happiness filled the house. It filled the house with the sounds of a family, the sounds of a little girl running from room to room playing with a Golden Retriever puppy. That was my daughter Carly, and the first dog that we ever had as a family. The dog is long since dead; she died almost twelve years ago when Carly was fourteen.

I remember thinking at the time that there was nothing worse than watching the realization of death sink into my fourteen year old daughter’s eyes. It seemed like the world was a little bit greyer after that. Like someone had bleached the color out of it in spots.

The house seems to remember everything that I do. My eyes turn towards an empty kitchen but instead of seeing the pile of dirty dishes in the sink or the three trash bags that I’ve been too lazy to carry out, they see a barely eighteen year old Carly standing at the counter, her mother and I waiting patiently behind her as she opens a letter of acceptance to Washington State University. The house and I both remember the way she screamed and jumped up and down. My shoulders can still remember her arms around me just like my cheek can remember the kiss she left there.

I think that when you’re young you assume that everything will work out for the best. As you get older you realize that nothing but undesirable things, things that make life difficult, happen on their