The Voice of Reason, Part of the Paranormal Shorts

By Rome

Mary Percy can see nothing that will change her mother from mending her ways. Her father’s death had resulted in unhappy results for all three of them. When her mother drowns her troubles with drinks, Mary hardens herself to maintain sanity at all costs. She decides to celebrate her father’s life and memory by capturing the poetry that he wrote so intensely atop a cliff close to home. But when she meets Brad, Mary unravels the most unbecoming truth about her father, about the strange nature of life itself and the reason why betrayals sometimes leads to truth in the most unequivocal way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rome
• Release date: Jun 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458018588

Rome

Rome now lives in the United States where her passion for justice and civil liberties comes forth through writing that she hopes conveys the complexity of the human mind in all its most variant forms.

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THE VOICE OF REASON

Part of the Paranormal Shorts

By Rome

Copyright 2011 Rome

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She had been at it again. It showed in the way she ambled around, in the manner she’d speak incoherently, her body no longer in synch and her soul, warped of the timeless charm and life she had always exemplified. Her mother was on the verge of a horrific breakdown and she knew it. So many times she would cry, sometimes quietly, sometimes hopelessly and many times more, she would just shut herself holed up with only bottles of ill smelling hard liquor to tide her life away.

Mary felt a little tear trail off the corner of her eyes. Not too much, just a little when her heart would feel that stab of pain at what stood before her now. She was still confident that better times lay ahead but each time she saw her drunk, she felt the anger seethe within her that her mother wasn’t trying hard enough the way she and Gillian did. If she raised the topic on Alcohol Anonymous, it would cause a fury in the house and Gillian would cry, much more than she ever wished. Gillian was the meek one who took after her father. She was the tough one, the one who was really like her mother. It was the way they were made of, each stamped with the genetic makeup that their parents had bequeathed upon them.

Mama, stop drinking that damn stuff! You are killing yourself, why don’t you listen? she cried out as she wrenched the bottle