Redemption: The First Forgiveness

By Arin Simmons

This is an imaginative quest to earn forgiveness and grant it. Sharron is on the quest of her life after she stumbles across the most amazing man, Lyte, and the dangerous situation she was predesined to allieviate. Lyte's history, as with the mythology of Christian beliefs engulfs her and propelles her along a path frought with danger, love and hate. Can she overcome her own desires and seek the forgivess of her sins as she grants it to others? She is weilded as an instument of God to help prepare for the biggest battle mankind will ever have to face. But can she accept that burden? Even after years of fulfilling a destiny she never understoof, the task is forced on her daughter as Arianne continues to fight an enemy so powerful, so devious and cunning that failure is almost inevitable. This book is filled with the confusions of real life in a surreal exprience, and how the choices we make eventually bless or doom us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Nov 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781426938719

Arin Simmons

I have been writing short stories ever since i could read and write. My imagination was strongly influenced by my mother and her stories of her life mingled with the books she read and realted to us as children. Playing barbies influenced the creative streak and strengthened my vivid imagination as a child, and it was often you could fine me reading books beyond my years and acting them out. As i grew and found I had an aptitude for the useage of the discriptive narrative, I began writing about my dreams and all the crazy things I have going on in my head. My talent was recognized early on and I was in writing competitions and had short stories published in the newspapers. But that was just as a child. In my teens I really got to work and started writing more complex stories with twists and turn and lots of imagination. One story in particular my teacher never gave back.... I had to rewrite the whole first chapter, since it started out as a simple writing assignment and turned into a 200 page hand written story that I still love. It was, after all, my first book. After i graduated high school and worked ceaslessly, i developed the ability to go off in my mind while my bbody was more or less on aotu pilot doing what I had to do to get through the day. After the birth of my child and the dissolution of my marriage, I put all my effort into a story about fantastic love, religion and mostly forgiveness. Currently I am attending the Art Institute of Tampa in an attempt to better my future and that of my child. I am in the Film Production and Digital Media program, and study screenwriting in particular. It has occured to me that my vivid imagination could be shown to everyone in the best way, since not everyone reads. Movies. And with computer graphics what they are today, my vision can be distributed and enjoyed by everyone. I am going for my Bachelor's and in the middle of the 4 year program. I am a straight A student, harking back to high school days over 6 years past. I'm thankful to my mother, my inspiration, and the God who is guiding this book that undoubtedly asserts His presence and unending love. And of course, forgiveness for all the stupid crap we all do.

Book preview

Redemption

THE FIRST FORGIVENESS

Arin Simmons

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© Copyright 2010 Arin Simmons.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Preface:

Part 1, Sharron

I can’t say I was deserving of such good fortune. I hadn’t done anything special with my life. I never excelled in anything. My story was so cliché, just another unheard tragedy. Sure I did well in school, and I was a fairly good artist, but I was shy and self-conscious. I graduated and stagnated. Even six years after promising dreams of college and a future past the only thing I had to show for the passage of time was my crappy little apartment. I like my life, myself, but I desperately hated the situation. All I wanted was an out. All I needed was some hope. All I had was thee hundred dollars to my name. Why couldn’t I catch a break? Hadn’t I worked hard enough, long enough, and for not nearly enough? Here I was just barely scraping by on left-over’s and hand me down jeans. Yes, this was the life I lived. I had such big dreams when I was younger. Yet all I could manage was my next meal. It was during this time of monotony that I decided to take control of my own fate, and not let people continue to mistake my kindness for weakness. Starting with my ex-boyfriend. I escaped that situation only to land in another. I figured I could have done worse, considering. Besides, there was only one thing I really wanted: love. It’s what I deserved.

Contents

Hello

Mistake

Deception

Risen

Trial

Battle of Birds

Redeemed

Into the Deep

Truth

Silence

Birth

Sudden

Ascent

Lost

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Hello

I was sitting at a little park watching my daughter play. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, the happy sound of children playing filling the air around me, and the sound of someone calling my name. I looked around but saw no one I recognized. Probably a child sharing my name, it’s not like Sharron is all that uncommon.

My little one runs up to me, showing me a toy. The boy she took it from came running up behind her in tears. I decided it’s time to leave. She looks up to me and suddenly her face is clear. Her beautiful, cherubic face is mine, but her eyes are bright. They are brilliant green and they startle me awake.

I sat up in bed with a start. The dream seemed so real, so vibrant. I shuddered silently while tears washed down my face. I hated these daughter dreams. I loved my dream child, my little girl who never had a chance to live. I had had a miscarriage not even a year prior, and the dreams never stopped. They were generally always the same too. A little girl with bouncing brown curls, just like my own, and big round eyes was the star in my dreams. Sometimes her eyes were that brilliant bright color, sometimes a dull brown, depending on my mood. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about the daughter I had lost.

After work I would go home and do nothing. Sometimes Jonathan, my ex, would come by and talk with me. I left him after the miscarriage. He wanted to stay together and try again, but I didn’t. I never loved him and I never would. Besides, it was his fault I had lost the baby in the first place. He didn’t remember what had happened, he was too drunk to. And I never told him. I wouldn’t.

The nights after he stops by I usually go out with some friends, to help alleviate the feelings of unease that Jonathan always arouses in me. So we go out on the prowl, in search of something fun. Something new.

I stood outside the bar for some fresh air and quiet. It wasn’t cold out, but after having been crammed inside with people all sweating and dancing, the light breeze sent a chill running up my spine. I stood there pondering the stars and watching cars drive past, oblivious to me and my thoughts. I started walking aimlessly, still lost somewhere inside my own head.

As I was passing a small alley way between the buildings, a great roar stole my attention, followed by a burning red light, coming from the alley. I skidded to a stop and turned around to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a man crawling on the ground out from the shadows. The light was dimming around us (a broken lamp?) so I couldn’t exactly see what was going on. My first assumption was that this guy was drunk and breaking things in the alley. The idea made me want to turn and walk away. Yet there was something compelling about the situation, like an unseen force keeping me rooted to the sidewalk.

The man was crawling towards me. Nervously, I leaned down to help him stand. Where my skin touched his, fire! His skin was burning hot, and he shook me off after he was on his feet. He leaned his back against the wall, keeping his face down, the dark hair obscuring it, as he pushed the sleeves of his black shirt down to cover the exposed skin. He pushed himself off the wall and stumbled a few more feet, his back to me once again.

Are you okay? I ventured.

He hunched over like he had a terrible stomach ache, or like he was about to puke. I kept my distance. Instead he gulped in a lungful of air. It was a long, deep breath like someone finally inhaling after having been under water for too long. He coughed a little, trying to clear his throat, and then worked on regulating his breathing. He turned to face me, standing upright, tall and composed.

My heart stopped. Never in my life had I ever seen someone so beautiful. His face was a picture of a god, slightly angular with chiseled features and a strong jaw. Sweat beaded on his forehead, weighing down is hair. He pushed his hair back from his face casually, making it stick out in odd directions around his head. With no more obstruction to his perfection, I couldn’t help but stare.

His eyes stole my coherency. At first I had thought they were black, but now that he looked directly at me, I was wrong. They were blue. Not just any blue though, but a vibrant, brilliant blue. Like he had to be wearing contacts because no eyes could be that bright of blue. Behind his full lips were perfect, white teeth that shown like a full moon at midnight, when he finally smiled at me.

Again my heart skipped a beat, and I must have looked like an idiot just standing there, eyebrows raised, mouth lightly open, and eyes bulging out of my head. Which was probably why he was smiling, enjoying my momentary stupification. I tried to reassemble my thoughts and compose my expression.

Are you all right? I asked again.

"I am now." He answered in a cool, mellow voice. The way he said it, though, made me feel like he meant he was fine now that I was there. But I had been drinking so it’s useless to try and interpret.

I felt like I should say something. He looked like he was waiting for me to. But what? So I asked him his name.

Lyte. He answered, smiling ruefully, like there was some secret behind his unusual name.

Well, Lyte, are you taking a break from inside? I said, hitching my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the bar.

Actually, I just got here. Still smiling. But I will gladly break with you, if you do not mind my company.

Like I would! I couldn’t think of better company for the night, which reminded me of my friends I left inside.

Well, I have some friends inside who are probably looking for me now, but if you want, you can come on in and hang with us. I suggested, pleading with fate that he would accept, praying that I wasn’t dreaming.

He stepped closer to study me. I started feeling self-conscious, knowing what he saw. I’m not skinny. With my brown, curly hair and my grey eyes (my best asset), I’m not unattractive. However, I have a round face and some extra baggage after having been pregnant (I hadn’t lost what weight I had gained). So to have this incredibly good looking guy assess me made me remember my faults and wonder how he would view them. Especially when we get inside and he could see all the other prettier women.

He didn’t show any sign of the usual mild disgust I often see in guys. Instead, he regarded me with what looked like interest. His head was cocked to the side and his eyes were probing into mine, into my soul.

You haven’t told me your name. He stated curiosity in his voice.

Sharron. I answered simply. Take it or leave it.

He smiled, and placing his hand at the small of my back, guided me towards the bar. Inside, the music was loud; conversations were straining to be heard. I lead the way towards my group, weaving in and out of people standing around in various degrees of drunkenness. Everyone gave Lyte wide berth, eyeing him with wonder and envy. Mostly by women who were in awe of his perfection, and envious of me for accompanying him. I had to admit the attention was like a weird high. No one has ever been envious of me before.

My small group caught sight of me, waving me over. It took them less than a minute to realize that the exceptionally hot guy behind me was in fact following my lead. Their eyes popped out of their heads, questions bubbling, waiting to be voiced.

But we were ambushed by Amanda, a former friend of mine. She rushed over to us like a tidal wave, flaunting herself to Lyte like a peacock. I tried to be casual and continue away from her, but she tailed us, trying to draw Lyte’s attention from me. I was growing rather irritated with her, and I looked over at Lyte to see what kind of an effect she was having on him. To my surprise, he wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he just looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. She hadn’t even gotten around to telling him her life’s story when he managed an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. He pulled me closer to him, a shield against her obvious intentions. I was overjoyed. Normally I’m the one who’s dismissed, especially after she’s intervened and advertised her wares.

Somehow we managed to escape and continue over to Natalie, the better friend. I introduced them, blushing crimson. She was wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear, and seemed to say you go girl! all on its own. Relieved, I winked back at her. I never had to worry about Natalie throwing herself at anyone I was interested in. Amanda, on the other hand, was in a heated rage at having been dismissed. Apparently she’s not good with handling rejection.

She tried taking his full attention, addressing him directly, gazing into his brilliant eyes. She leaned seductively over the counter, trying to give him a glimpse of her nonexistent cleavage, or her butt crack peeking out from the top of her low rider jeans. All of her tricks seemed to fail.

Instead, he again turned away from her, and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

Your friend is quite obvious, isn’t she?

I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, raising Goosebumps along my arms. I momentarily forgot where we were, focusing only on the sound of his voice, and the proximity of it to me.

She’s no friend of mine. I whispered back, turning to face him. I smiled maliciously. I think your lack of attention is making her mad.

He made an obvious move for her then. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tilted my face up to his with the tips of his fingers, lightly tracing my jaw line.

She’s not my type. He responded while looking intently into my eyes.

My heart felt like it was about to beat its way out of my chest and continue to hop around until next year. I cast my gaze down, shy, and nervous. Both emotions were warring inside of me.

Again he lifted my face to ensnare me in his eyes. I felt oddly buoyant, like I was floating there in the endless blue, with no other sound around me except for the magic timbre of his voice.

Don’t be modest. He said to me, and me alone, as if I were the only person he saw in this crowded bar. You know how beautiful you are.

Two things dawned on me right at that moment. First, I wasn’t breathing. The lightheaded feeling confirmed that as I drew in a shaky breath. Secondly, somewhere in the midst of our whispered conversation my friends had stopped talking amongst themselves and were avidly watching us. I blushed involuntarily as I felt their eyes digging into me. Lyte smiled and ran his fingertips across my flushed cheek. I felt like fainting, but reminded myself to keep breathing.

After a moment of intense concentration, his attention floated elsewhere, giving me a moment (I’m sure) to unscramble my mind. I glanced over at Natalie and the other two girls. They were all silently applauding me, and giving two thumbs up each. From the corner of my eye was Amanda, in a rage, preparing to make a scene. The drama queen that she was, scenes were her specialty, to ensure that attention be paid to her. She stormed off towards the bar for more liquid motivation.

Lyte turned back to me after she left.

Your annoying friend is finally gone. He said. An understatement in my opinion.

She’ll be back. I warned. With some sort of drama or whatever. Of course she would do anything to steal my thunder.

Then perhaps we should leave, before she comes back? he suggested.

Me? Leave with him? Absolutely! I had to double think that. I had only met him not even an hour ago. I mean, I found him crawling around in an alley. Besides, it wasn’t like I could just bring a stray guy home from the bar. How bad would that look? Luckily, Natalie caught the end of our whispered conversation, or at least the cautious look on my face, and decided our course of action for us.

Let’s get out of here before Amanda comes back. She suggested, mockingly exasperated. We all knew it was a matter of time before Amanda started something.

We rushed outside to my car and began piling into my two-door Ford Explorer. I looked around and caught sight of Amanda emerging from the bar, charging towards us like a bull to a red flag.

Go! Go! we were all laughing and yelling and I jumped in behind the wheel. I quickly started it up and slammed it into reverse. Cleared of cars and the spot, with Amanda closing in, I threw it into drive and peeled out, leaving her in my empty parking spot. We were roaring with laughter as we drove off.

Let’s go down to the beach. Natalie piped up, interrupting the sobered silence that had settled in the car as we drove along the empty highway.

Yeah we can go skinny dipping. Brittany, the other girl in our entourage said, her voice dripping with implications.

I looked in the rearview mirror to see her eyeing Lyte furtively. I couldn’t blame her, as I was throwing sidelong glances at him too. I didn’t like it though. Maybe I was just imagining that he had any interest in me. There was no reason for me to get all possessive.

We have to stop by my house first. Natalie clarified. We can split up so we’re not all crammed in here.

I liked this idea as it would leave Lyte and me alone. That was obviously Natalie’s plan. I could hear Brittany’s disapproving sigh, but she didn’t argue it. When they unloaded from my car and we were driving again in silence, I decided it was time to get Lyte talking.

So where are you from? I asked, keeping it casual.

Hell. He shrugged.

That bad, huh? I chuckled, sounding rather blasé. Are you finding it any better out here?

So far. He answered as he looked over at me, some unfathomable emotion burning deep in his eyes. I had to fight myself to look away and back at the road. But his voice sounded skeptical, as if his preconceived notions were not being met, yet.

So where are you staying? I tried to keep it casual still, not wanting to be too obvious that I was asking if he had a girlfriend or something.

Nowhere at the moment. This is unfamiliar territory to me. I just happened to end up here. He was gazing out the windows, confusion plain on his face.

Confusion was plain on my face too. I couldn’t even begin to understand the cryptic answer. Before I could drag an understandable answer from him, we arrived at the beach. Natalie and company were there, already unloading a blanket and heading down to the shore. I kicked off my shoes and rolled my pant legs up to my calves. Lyte followed my lead as we walked down the boardwalk.

The moonlight washed over us, illuminating the pale sand beneath our feet. The dark wall before us was undistinguishable between sky and ocean, as the stars were reflecting on the water’s unusually calm surface. The horizon was obscured in darkness. It felt like walking to the edge of a great void, with nothing in front of us but our own inhibitions. Even then I really did feel like I was on the verge of something extraordinary. As if I stood precariously on an edge, balancing between the familiar and the unknown. I felt like I was about to plunge headfirst into that unknown, and there was nothing that could stop me. I wanted it.

Behind me, lights winked off, condos dwellers going to sleep. The lights symbolized the lights of my past, winking out of existence. Out of relevance. Suddenly all that mattered was that Lyte had taken my hand in his. His skin was fire against my cool temperature. It was not uncomfortable. Instead it was as if he were thawing me out with his warmth.

We began walking aimlessly along the shoreline, the water lapping gently at my ankles. I wanted to ask him what I was going to before we got to the beach. Though he seemed honest and kind, I knew too little about him. I wanted to learn more about this mysterious, beautiful man.

You said you had been traveling. I said cautiously. So how did you end up by that bar? I silently prayed that he wasn’t some serial axe murderer preying on naive young women.

I’m not really sure. He answered.

He sounded honest enough to me, but there was still something under a thick layer of secrecy about him. I had to find out what.

It is all a bit of a blur to me right now. When I decided to leave, I snuck out. I guess I didn’t pay much attention to where I was, until you found me. He looked over at me, smiling.

You ran away? I asked, surprised.

I suppose you could call it that. I… He inhaled an encouraging deep breath. I just couldn’t stand it anymore, so I just left. But the world is a different place than I thought. I have never been on my own like this before. It is a little new to me. He admitted sheepishly.

I believed it.

From whom were you running away? I didn’t want to be nosey, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to learn why he looked so depressed. He seemed reluctant to answer, so I prodded him more. Was it your parents? After I said that I saw him flinch, as if I had struck a nerve. Yes, the parents. I wondered what he had against his.

No, not really. He answered instead, catching me off guard and shoving my assumption back in my face. My father kicked me out a long time ago. It was awful where I was. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I could have done like the others have, but my anger was my own prison, I guess you could say. I’m going to try to go home, now. I’m done holding a grudge. He shrugged.

I could hear the strain in his voice, trying to sound unemotional. I looked up to confirm that it was harder for him than he was making it out to be. Yes, the controlled longing in his voice was betrayed by the grief evident in his eyes. I couldn’t help but be moved by such sadness.

Maybe I can help. I offered, trying to think of some way to alleviate his pain. If you know where he lives, maybe I could take you there.

He looked at me skeptically, and then smiled.

Oh, I know where he resides. He admitted, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. It’s not so easy, though. A long time ago, I did something. Something very bad. My father doesn’t accept sinners.

When he said a long time ago, I had the uncanny feeling that he meant much longer than I could comprehend. I didn’t comment on that though.

I see. I said instead. The real religious type. I nodded absently. I knew that type.

Yes, you could say that. The slight smile melted into a frown, his voice laden with sorrow. I don’t know if he will ever forgive me, but I must try. I want to go home. His voice was almost vehement with his dedication.

Now I don’t like getting into religious conversations with strangers, because you never know who you are going to offend. But he seemed pretty intent on this topic, and coming from a religious family, I thought it might be rude to drop it. Besides, he was actually explaining something about himself, and I wasn’t about to ruin that.

Well, if you can’t gain his forgiveness, at least you have God’s. I said lightly, realizing that the joke was probably in bad taste.

What? he asked sharply, spinning me around to face him. He almost looked mad. I knew it wasn’t a good joke, but this was an overreaction.

God grants forgiveness to everyone who asks for it. A rhetorical statement, but my voice had wavered, making it end more like a question. I didn’t understand his reaction. Everyone knew that. You ask, in earnest, for forgiveness and dedicate your life to God and all that, and you would be accepted into Heaven.

He stared at me incredulously. Maybe he wasn’t Christian?

Surely it isn’t so easy? his voice sounded exactly like his expression looked: shocked.

Well, that’s what we’ve been told. Since birth. I confirmed, dumbfounded.

You people have it so easy. He muttered under his breath, so low that I couldn’t be sure that’s actually what he said.

Who are you trying to gain forgiveness from anyways? God or you father? I scoffed. "Whatever you did it couldn’t have been that bad."

You’re wrong. He said solemnly. I turned my back on my father. I turned my back on God. To gain forgiveness from one is to have it from the other.

His explanation really didn’t explain anything. I floundered for a moment, trying to think of something to say. We started walking again.

Well lucky for you there’s churches everywhere. You can go pray your heart out. That was my witty comeback. I have to admit I was a little disappointed. Sure I hoped he wasn’t an axe murderer, but I didn’t know if it wasn’t just as bad to have someone who was so deeply religious. They had rules and principles that people like me had problems adhering to.

Could you take me to one? he asked, eager, hopeful.

Not right now, they’re all closed. It’s much too late.

Then perhaps in the morning? He asked, and it made me think. What about tomorrow? He said he didn’t have anywhere to go. Should I take him to my small, crappy apartment? He sounded so sure, though, like it was never in question. I had to think of something quick.

Sure, I could take you there on my way to work. I answered. I decided that I couldn’t just leave him without anywhere to go. He must have read the conflict in my eyes.

Is it a problem for me to stay with you over night? His voice betrayed his disappointment, saddened by the thought of sleeping outside again no doubt. That option would make me sad too.

No, no. I verified. It’s just that my place isn’t exactly the Ritz, you know. You can stay there, though. I’m not leaving you out on the streets.

Will you return, to pick me up? Or will I not see you again?

Here I had been asking myself that same question. It was nice to know that he felt the same way. Then I thought, maybe he just needs the ride. He did imply that tomorrow he would know what to do, after he went to church. My sudden elation evaporated as soon as it had bubbled up. Damn my pessimism. He looked genuinely interested, though, looking at me with those unbelievably brilliant eyes. Like seeing me again would make his day. I salvaged some of that evaporating hope.

I’ll be there. I assured him. Apparently he would be spending more than just this night with me. I didn’t feel too worried about that, though. The only thing that had me concerned was my parents. I literally lived around the corner from their house. They stopped by almost every day. When they weren’t at my place, I was at theirs. I ate there, did my laundry there. There was no way I could keep a guy hidden for long. I knew what they would think, too. A single woman, fresh out of a difficult relationship, hurting, bringing home some strange dude I had just met. I could imagine the lecture I would receive. I sighed. I would have to introduce them soon. At least they couldn’t complain. A guy who didn’t mind spending half the day at church? How bad of an influence could he be? If anything he would be dragging me there with him.

We walked in silence, hand in hand. Only the sound of the waves gently lapping and the distant hum of a car or two passing filled the silence between us. For that moment, it seemed that neither one of us felt the need to talk. I was strangely comfortable with that. Every now and then he would break the silence to ask me something about myself, where I was born, how old I was, why I was here. At first I was a little hesitant to tell him about my miscarriage. I figured I’d better get it over and done with before our arrangement was etched in stone. Scare him off now before I could really start to like him. I was mentioning my past when I had spoke of Jonathan in the present tense.

Why do you still talk to him? was the crucial question. I drew in a deep breath for encouragement, steeling myself for disappointment.

It’s because of what happened. I paused, taking another deep breath. Last year I was pregnant, but I lost her. I would have had a daughter. Even in my own ears my voice was laden with sadness.

How did you lose her? he was curious, obviously.

I’d rather not talk about it right now. I sighed. I try not to talk about it at all anymore. I just want to move past it

He remained silent but squeezed my hand reassuringly.

He’s just a bad boyfriend. He’s a drunk and when he gets like that he… well he treats me like crap. I didn’t need to live like that anymore. It was depressing me to talk about him. Besides, I could go on all day about why I left him. This wasn’t the time, or the place for that story.

Nor should you have to. He agreed. Everyone deserves some measurement of happiness. Now he sounded depressed too.

Well, I have to work through the weekend. Are you going to stick around? I was a little nervous, but I left the option open to him.

Is that an offer? He eyed me questioningly. I suppose he took the expression on my face as an affirmative. I was going for unbiased but hopeful. I just hope I didn’t look more like desperate.

I appreciate your kindness, Sharron. He finally answered after said scrutiny. All of it. You had no reason to help me, earlier, in the alley. Yet you did. And then for you to introduce me to your friends and make me feel welcome here, it is all so unusual to me. I didn’t realize such generosity still existed. His voice had me searching his face now, looking for some falseness, but finding none. He was, in earnest, thanking me as if I had saved his life or something.

Yeah, the good ones, I tried to joke it off, embarrassed by his gratitude. We’re few and far between. I added a shaky laugh. It’s not like I could have just left you there, or here. I guess you’re just stuck with me for now.

Then I am in your debt. He stopped me again and pulled me towards him so we were facing each other. He looked as if he were trying to convey some message with his eyes, something that he couldn’t just come right out with and say.

It’s not really a big deal. I said slowly, carefully.

It is to me. He was still probing me with his eyes. You’re a kind person, Sharron. You wouldn’t hesitate to help someone, even before helping yourself. He sighed and continued walking. Self sacrifice is a very noble act.

I thought about that in the silence that proceeded. Obviously I would do a lot for the benefit of others. But sacrifice? Sure, there was plenty I had given up so someone else could be happy.

I can be selfish, too. I muttered more to myself than him. He heard my verbal thought. It was true though. There were some things I would not give up.

How about jealous? he asked noncommittally.

Sure, I’ve been jealous of a lot. I admitted honestly.

Do you covet what others have?

I don’t care too much for possessions. I clarified. "I guess I’m more jealous of relationships. I wish I could experience that level of deep understanding that some couples share. Maybe I covet their bond, more than either of