Of Boneyards And Berserkers

Book by: TL Boehm

Summary

Where would I start if afforded this elixir, this get out of urbanity free card – to fold the fabric of space time and stick my pencil in the cogs of the machine – rewinding it to the moment that would amaze my progeny. A repetitive spell. A hocus pocus. A safe word. Yet here I was - a genealogical mix of scribe and garbage man sifting through the dry rubble in search of something salvageable – carrying this small ache magnified in the stark truth that the summation of one’s existence would be catalogued as a few dates on dry census papers or a five hundred word blurb on a wiki page. Souls who lived, died, fell in love, held and lost children.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Of Boneyards And Berserkers

Author Chapter Note

A paternal issue leads to a quest for personal identity

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 02, 2012

Reads: 99

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: May 02, 2012

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“Ron’s not really your Dad,” Mom said it flatly, like she’d asked me to pass the salt at the dinner. “Only reason I married Ron was to get out ofHowardCity. Here, you remember George; he’s your real dad. ”

I studied the picture of mom’s soldier sweetheart. This dark, furry werewolf in navy dress bore no resemblance to my freckled, face and straight brown hair. Was this lie her capstone in a life dedicated to destroying her daughter? Did she really despise Ron so much she would take his only child from him? Mutely, I placed the picture on the table, biting my lip so I wouldn’t cry.


© Copyright 2016 TL Boehm. All rights reserved.

Of Boneyards And Berserkers Of Boneyards And Berserkers

Status: Finished

Genre: Historical Fiction

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Historical Fiction

Houses:

Summary

Where would I start if afforded this elixir, this get out of urbanity free card – to fold the fabric of space time and stick my pencil in the cogs of the machine – rewinding it to the moment that would amaze my progeny. A repetitive spell. A hocus pocus. A safe word. Yet here I was - a genealogical mix of scribe and garbage man sifting through the dry rubble in search of something salvageable – carrying this small ache magnified in the stark truth that the summation of one’s existence would be catalogued as a few dates on dry census papers or a five hundred word blurb on a wiki page. Souls who lived, died, fell in love, held and lost children.

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