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It was settled, then. Coleen was coming with him. Arthur turned and looked out the doorway at the weary world before him. The island may as well have been resting on the back of a sleeping giant, threatening to wake up at any moment, Arthur thought, imagining himself writing as he straightened his hat, A fate that the pair would like much more than having to kill one of their friends.

He'd probably never get to write again, either, not that anybody would notice. A few months ago, he had promised to himself that he'd start to share some of his stuff with his friends before the year was up. Arthur thought about just how easy promises were to break, and it sent sour sickly feelings through his throat.

"Alright," said Arthur, "Where to next?"

[Arthur Bernstein continued in Honeysuckle and Pain.]
~~~~~ Creativity's Burning Pyre ~~~~~



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