A hastily-written paper for my acting class on the play (musical) that we had to see. It was either this or Ten Little Indians, and this was sooner.


I had the opportunity to review the West Chester University Theater's presentation of You're a Good Man Charlie Brown on Saturday, July 8th. This production reinterprets the characters of Charles M. Shulz into a two-act musical, featuring in-character songs by each of the famous characters in Shulz's Sunday comic strips. Throughout the musical, the actors bring to life the characters and their all-too familiar skits. Presented in the thrust theater of the E.O. Bull Center, the stage presented some interesting challenges to the actors and stage crew.

The thrust stage forced the actors to portray their roles to a wider field of audience. The actors were largely aware of the surrounding seating, and rather than presenting a single outward view as would be possible while using a proscenium stage, individual skits were arranged to face in different directions to accommodate different sections of the audience. Optimally, the actor might better choose his presentation to the audience; whether he is open or closed. In this situation, the actors often had to choose a section of the audience to alienate during their performance. Nonetheless, the dialog was clear throughout the performance regardless of the aspect they presented.

The costumes played an important role in the production. Without the costumes, the show really would not have been Charlie Brown, but simply some group of kids that seem familiar but no placeable. Linus' blue security blanket and Charlie Brown's yellow shirt with black zig-zags so utterly define those characters visually that changing those aspects would do a disservice to the show. Thankfully, the costume elements of the show were mostly in-line with the comic, the only exception being Snoopy. As a man portraying Snoopy the dog, his mannerisms were the main tip-off, and his costume alluded to very little.

All of the scenery seemed to be crafted of wood and painted flat to resemble the comics from which the musical drew its story. This was a nice touch. The clouds in the background were puffy and cartoon-like, and the sets were simple and effective. The only stage prop that truly defied this flat categorization was Snoopy's house, which was a human-sized dog house for accommodation of Snoopy, who was portrayed by a human-sized actor. Rather than employing a stage crew, the actors manipulated the scenery on stage, including Snoopy's dog house, which was craftily rolled about the stage during the “Red Baron” scene in which Snoopy partook.

In characterization, the actor who played Snoopy did a wonderful job of playing his part. In the comic, Snoopy remains the faithful yet anthropomorphic companion of Charlie Brown, and in this play he was no less. The actor fully captured the needs of Snoopy the dog, with his daily food requirements, and the behavior of Snoopy the almost-human receiver of valentines. Unlike Snoopy, Charlie Brown's actor played him a bit flat.

The audience is supposed to see Charlie Brown as a good guy who finds himself awkward in an unforgiving world. He is very human – clumsy, nervous, and apprehensive, but incredibly stubborn – but the actor did not portray these traits very well. The Charlie Brown in this production behaved more clueless than hopeless, and didn't evoke the same feel that comes from the comic. An example of this occurs during the kite-flying scene, where Charlie Brown should really present a surprised expression, excite that his kite is flying. Instead, he comes across as dreamy and harebrained. Perhaps this is due to the rewrite for the musical production, but the actor seemed to have his own interpretation of Charlie Brown to present.

Lucy, on the other hand, was dead-on. The actress who played Lucy VanPelt had exactly the idea of what makes Lucy the person she is. The attitude conveyed by her in the scene with Linus came across perfectly, as if the audience was reading the comic. In her interaction with Schroeder, she played the part of the scorned admirer very well.
Unfortunately for Lucy, Schroeder did not play well against her. Rather, he never portrayed a different attitude than the one he portrayed with Lucy. This is a shame because his song is one of the better musical numbers in the play, and suffered from his lack of emotion. One wonders if Schroeder could have been a bit more animated in scenes where he was not interacting with Lucy, if only to show contrast between his distaste for her affections and his every day conversation.

In the Friday production, Sally had a particularly difficult time. After a scene in which she discussed her utter dislike for jump rope, a younger member of the audience loudly commented in the theater, “She's such a drama queen.” The actress heard the remark and rather than ignore it or fumble, she played to it perfectly in characterization of Sally, who is often ridiculed by her classmates for her eccentric behavior, by storming off in a huff.

Sally's “Sweet Babboo”, Linus, also played his part in the musical very well. His skill with manipulating his security blanket must have been well-practiced. Linus often appears in the comic as a youngster who is both exceptional but underappreciated by the older kids. This is clear in this actor's portrayal of the character. Of all the musical productions during the show, Linus' had the most intricate blocking, requiring many characters to move about the stage synchronously, while wielding their own security blankets.

The show was quite entertaining on the whole. Some of the actors might have characterized their parts a bit differently than one might expect from reading the comic, but the effect of the performance overall brought the original Shultz strips to life.

It was a curious day when Abby's mommy came home from work and found Abby slithering around under the kitchen table.

Abby's tongue flicked back and forth across her lips quickly. Either she was thinking very hard or was just about to snack on something very delicious. She quietly looked up at Mommy without blinking.

"You must be a snake," Mommy said as she looked down at her under the table, "because you're slithering around under my kitchen table."

Abby pulled her arms legs underneath herself and stood on all fours under the table. "No, I'm not a snake!" Abby barked. "I don't have scaly skin." She crawled out on her hands and knees and pranced about in front of Mommy axiously. Finally she sat still, wiggling her little bottom and looking up at Mommy with big round eyes.

"Oh," Abby's mommy said thoughtfully. "Then you must be a little dog, since you're crawling around on the floor and looking up at me with your big puppy dog eyes."

Abby pulled her hands up off the floor and squatted on her feet. "No, I'm not a dog," Abby chirped. "I don't have any fur." Abby's head bobbed around a bit on top of her head as she got her balance, teetering squatted on her tip-toes.

"Hmm," Abby's mommy thought again to herself. "Then you must be a parrot, since your head is bobbing like that and you're making such a squawk about it."

"No, no, NO!" Abby said, standing up straight. "I'm not a parrot, I don't have wings!" She waved her arms around to demonstrate, and was so excited she teetered back and forth from one leg to the other.

"Well, you've got to be a monkey, then," said Mommy contemplatively. "Look at how you're pretending to swinging your arms like a crazy little monkey."

"Ugh!" cried Abby. "I'm not a monkey! I don't have a tail!" Abby was starting to get tired of all of this monkey business. She told Mommy, "I'm just a little girl!"

Just then, Mommy got a sly look on her face. "Are you sure you're not a frog?" Mommy asked.

And just like that, Abby turned into a little frog and said, "Ribbit!" just before she hopped into Pooh Cat's water bowl, through the pantry, and into the back yard.

The distant sound of croaking was heard coming from the swingset while Mommy made macaroni and cheese for dinner.

Create a writing schedule for the next three weeks. Start with five minutes per day. Add five minutes to every writing session. Note on your schedule how you're doing.

I started this entry a long time ago based on a magazine that Mom got me to help inspire my writing. In the magazine was a calendar with a writing idea for each day. I've used a few things out of it, but after a couple of weeks, I didn't go back to it. I don't think I've done too poorly without it.

This week I've been feeling dry on ideas. I think it's a combination of my cold and the lack of interesting and publicly-acceptable things to write about. I'm sure if I think about it I can put together a good list of things to write about over the coming weeks, especially if I don't get too excited about them and write about everything today.

We're trying to enroll Abby in a few extracurricular things this week. The stories of those experiences should be interesting. Swimming, dancing, and gymnastics. She's also got a birthday party to attend on Sunday. I think that someone's going to be all worn out by the end, and I don't think it'll be Abby.

Kid Two is always good for a yarn when there's info to report. But apart from some intermittent issues that are inconsequential, there's nothing to report. I suppose that picking a name should rate higher on our list of things to do, and I could write about the session Berta and I had the other night in narrowing down the list of names - to five.

We also have the formerly anticipated and now much dreaded trip to Florida to look forward to. I should put some thought into the planning of the trip and write about it. We're supposed to select what attractions we really need to see while we're down there so that we can see everything that we want. Right now, there really isn't much that I would call "must-see", and am hoping simply that we're not blown away by hurricanes or anything.

Next week there's a holiday. What is Labor Day all about anyway, and why can't you wear white afterward? Is there some picnic or barbecue involved? What's the deal?

There's plenty to talk about on the gaming front, I guess. I could write about my game or the upcoming game that Ken is going to run. I don't want to say that it'll be nice to get out from under running games, because I don't feel that way, but I do look forward to playing in Ken's game because he's always pretty thoughtful in his gaming.

There is surely a lot to say about computers and the web site, which can't be far from my mind if I'm in here posting things. Of course, not many people who come here - and maybe I've got this wrong - want to read about that kind of stuff. Anyway, that's not what this site was intended for, and there will soon be a solution to this issue that I can write more about.

There are movies that I should write about. New ones in the theaters (Hero), a couple of DVDs (Hellboy and the Butterfly Effect), and some stuff I've downloaded. I've actually been thinking of checking out a DVD of Equilibrium since it's out now and my cam copy is poor.

Gadget-wise not much is happening with us. We'll probably shop for a new stroller sometimes soon, and I can bore you with the details of that selection. I could also tell you of my fruitless and short-lived attempts at designing a new stroller. Yes, that would be amusing.

There are some other random things: A book I picked up about project managment certification should strike some interest. Re-thinking what I'm going to do about school. Thinking about what we're going to do about the kids' school. Ranting about the ornery neighbor kids. Finishing work on the house. Moving to somewhere nicer. Keeping the cars in repair and avoiding the cops. Checking out plays at People's Light. Finding a two-kid sitter. Practicing my new drawing skills. Fighting hordes of time zombies on the XBox. Trying to choose a presidential candidate that will give the best mileage for my voting dollar.

I'm not sure why I thought I wouldn't have anything to write about. Hmm. Any topics you'd like to see more of that I'm not covering well enough? Asymptomatic is in the top 500 blogs for subscribers at Bloglet and is quickly gaining momentum. So if you've got preferences, I'm listening.

The first of hopefully a multipart epic based on our latest D&D campaign.  I've revised my original email a little bit, and added some goals for next session.  Also included is a description of the Fortress of Arin from the book that Sirocco and Sybilla retrieved from Myrmeen's library.

I'm pleased with my first run of D&D 3.5.

The story went off without a hitch, although I think I could have applied some more power to the combat creatures.  I'm attributing this mostly to expecting a couple of weeks to prepare the creatures.  Next time, the enemies will be more formidable, but not overwhelming.

I hope that everyone is able to play next time, too.  One thing that I would like to work on is getting everyone involved in every session.  I think that I focus on people that involve themselves more, and that if I provide opportunities for everyone to use their skills, everyone will have more fun.

I would like to see Dan's Erik use some of his character skills, for example, which is only going to happen if I provide the opportunity for him to use them.  I'll have to come up with a special case for next session.

The same thing with Bob's Adara.  I think there is a lot of room for that character to do more than stun everything.  She's got a lot of vows of this and that going on, and I think I will enjoy putting them under stress over the next few sessions.  I might have something even more insidious in mind for her.

I think the player I left out most in this session is Dave.  His Air Genasi is an interesting character, and so very different from the rest of the party, which is mostly human.  There are traits of his character that I will have to make essential to the mission because they're cool.  Also, he would probably benefit from much more combat, specifically, many enemies as opposed to just one big one.

Sybilla is playing a good role in this campaign.  The magical experience her charcter brings to the party will prove very valuable.  I think that the next session will be frustrating for her, but in a good/challenging way.

I don't know if Adam has created Devon as a utility character, but that's how I see him at the moment.  Not to be mistaken, I don't picture him as a bard or a back-rank cleric.  But I expect that in each session one of the other players will say, "If only we had a >something<," and="" devon="" will="" somehow="" pull="" one="" out="" of="" thin="" air.

Elmeric is going to be a challenge for me.  I expect that I can provide opportunities for him to thrive beyond offering tracking and nature knowledge checks.  It seems like we're always having him skin something.  Hey, dungeoneering will actually be a useful skill in the next session, possibly moreso than any other skill.  In fact, I would bet that he might even have heard of this fortress, which is famous for its construction.

Next session should be a shock to players, too.  I'm going to be turning some things on their edges.  If characters have patron gods, they might want to check in with them.  I think that I might have overly de-emphasized the importance of asking for divine knowledge of the onyx stone.  Not that any useful facts would have turned up, but I would have been able to provide more of an attitude concerning the game events than I have been.  I'll correct that next session.

Next session: The Fortress of Arin - A prison for practicioners of the dark arts.  I'm using a couple of DM supplements to give the scenario life.  Basically, I'm creating a living dungeon.  Not every room is an encounter, but every room is there for a reason in regard to the location.  For example, the prison will have a kitchen.  Any monsters that might be in the dungeon will be there for a reason.  So you won't find any great salamanders lurking around in this prison unless its easy to see the reason for it.  That said, it may be easy to get some strange creatures into this particular place.

I don't want to give away everything to the players, but I do want them to be prepared to deal with what they would potentially be able to read a bit about in the book from Myrmeen's library. 

Little was ever spoken of the fortress for fear that its prisoners could somehow use those words to aid in their escape.  The prison was designed with one goal in mind: Contain powerful magic-users.  To this end many lethal non-magical means were employed, and those magical means that were used were unusual or very powerful.

The overlord of the fortress, ranger Lance Arakeen, was given free reign to construct what methods of containment he pleased as long as the prisoners were kept away.  He employed wizards of his own to construct the fortress, using many wards and specialized spells.  Rogues of many nations contributed to the construction as part of the reduced sentence for their own crimes.

The prison was a success for many years.  Some say that the last prisoner, one of the most powerful in his day, was too much for the prison to hold.  Others say that the residents finally learned to overcome their chaotic natures and work together to mount an escape.  Generally, the accepted reasoning is that a prisoner made a bargain with Arakeen, who had begun to feel like a prisoner himself, and that in this bargain Arakeen was killed and the other prisoners escaped.

The location of the fortress has remained a mystery since its creation for fear that an ally of the prisoners might attempt a jailbreak.  Many have searched for the prison over the thousands of years since the prisoners were known to have escaped, but it has gone unfound.  Likewise, its master has never been heard from.

I'm looking forward to next session.


The war against the invading Githyanki had gone well for the party.  After driving out the gith, the adventurers returned to the task of rataking their home land from the extraplanar creatures that the gith had caused to arrive during their invasion.

Erik, Elmeric, Thomas, Adara, and Sybilla were leaving the village of Ashford after clearing the area of slad and helping clean up the town. The townsfolk needed to perform a ritual to purify their land, but they had run out of the necessary wine. The party was on their way back to Arabell to retrieve the wine.

Thomas, Adara, and Elmeric were scouting ahead on the path when Erik and Sybilla heard something coming from the South through the forest. They hid and a small troupe of orcs raced through the woods, crossing the path and continuing on their way. In spite of Sybilla's stern warnings to stop, they kept running. Erik managed the sneak up behind one, stab a nerve, and roll back into hiding so that the others didn't even know he was hit. Sybilla lit the other three on fire with such a force that their bodies and any usable equipment were turned to ash. Moments later, the stabbed orc crumpled to the ground.

They inspected the body, and found symbols of Gruumsh on bracers of both of his arms. The rest of his outfit suggested that he was a cleric of some kind. While Erik questioned the dead body using mystic powers, Sybilla noticed carvings on the slightly curved shortsword that the orc carried reading, [orcish] "In service of our Lord, Gruumsh." Erik's questionings gleaned that the orcs were heading to Arabell.

Down the path to Arabell...

Thomas bid the others in the party to go on to the inn of the Spiked Iron Wheel, to obtain the wine necessary for the ritual, since he had business to attend to at the site of the reconstruction of the temple of Tyr. Erik and Sybilla went to address this mission while Adara sought out a quiet place to meditate and Elmeric left for the forest to look for signs of more orcs.

At the inn, Devon (Adam's character, an arcane trickster) and Sirocco (Dave's character, a whirling dervish) were making use of the full-service wenches while taking in some ale. Some rowdy characters were making a fuss in the corner, treating the waitresses poorly and being noisy about their thievish exploits. Erik and Sybillla joined Devon at a table, while Sirocco made nice with the only waitress/whore left not attending to the drunkards.

One of the roguish individuals got pissy about Sirocco making off with a woman he paid for, and started to make a move toward him. Sirocco drew swords and threatened the slow-witted thief while Devon greased the floor under one of his companions, making him fall. Sybilla froze another of the men, leaving only one capable of doing anything without his head being sliced off. Erik, invisible, stood behind the man, ensuring compliance with Sirocco's commands.

Just as things were looking very poor for the rogues, a thin man in tattered clothes walked into the inn carrying several heavy-looking sacks. One of them fell to the floor, spilling hundreds of gold coins across the floor. He headed to the bar, to which Devon helped him carry his other bags.

The whores, seeing the money, decided to get friendly with him. He grabbed one, tossed her onto the bar, flipped up her skirt, and has his way with her right there on the bar.

Devon was not satisfied with the man's behavior and resistance to speaking, and so thumped him with a sap. Brushing upon the man's neck with the hit, he experienced the vision of a waterfall. A moment later, Sybilla noticed that one of the rogues had re-drawn his crossbow, and was about to shoot. Her magic missile went off too late, however; The bolt went loose and after deflecting off of a decorative piece behind the bar, sliced the rope holding one of the many spiked iron wheels (used for lighting and security), which fell and embedded itself in the strange man's skull. His last words, "I knew it would happen here."

While lurking around the window, Erik noticed that there was snow falling outside, which was strange for late spring. It turned out that it was not snow, but ash, and a wide column of ash was spewing into the sky from the distant Thunder Peaks.

As soon as the man fell away from the whore, she started screaming. After calming down her friends, Sybilla noticed the strange eye movements of the woman, as if she was seeing visions. Anyone who touched the woman experienced similar visions, including the image of a waterfall, a stone fortress on a dark night, a canyon with a rope bridge and people (humans and orcs) standing on both sides, a chasm filled with dead bodies, a torch-lit hallway being traversed by the members of the party, and a rock wall with a large smooth stone in its center surrounded by unfamiliar mystical-looking carvings.

The distrustful inn women took their friend to the temple of Tymora for assistance. The strange dead man had left his bags of gold, and when searched, it was discovered that his pocket contained a small onyx rock with one perfectly smooth reflective side. Through this stone a hole was drilled which allowed it to be threaded with a leather thong. Sybilla casually tried to detect magic on the object and was stunned with its overwhelming power.

The party headed to the center of government to ask if they knew anything of the man, the stone, the orcs, or what was going on in the Thunder Peaks. Myrmeen knew little (aka nothing of use), but had a message for their friends from Thomas, stating that he had been given a mission of utmost importance from Torm and had to leave immediately. He had left word at the temple of Tyr that you should be given any help you need. Myrmeen also extended her hospitality to the renowned adventurers, informing them that the most recent surge of orc activity has been primarily clerics of Gruumsh, though she did not know what they might be plotting.

Erik used a spell to speak with the body of the strange dead man, and it seemed to work, since he was answering questions, but when he would have expected the body to stop responding, it lashed out, eventually telling him to "keep her safe for me until I come back." The voice finally faded.

Sirocco, with Sybilla's help, searched the Lady Lord's library for any reference to the items in their visions. They found a book of ancient legends that included an artist's rendering of a prison, labeled the Fortress of Arin. The story told of a prison that was used to hold the worst offenders of vile magic arts the world has ever known, although the book purported all of its sites to be the stuff of fairy tales.

Devon spent the day asking questions of the townfolk, learning what he could about the strange man in the inn. He had apparently walked with his many bags of gold directly from the city gates closest to the mountains to the front door of the Spiked Iron Wheel. He made no specific stops, but was very conspicuous.

Erik learned from the clerics at the temple of Tyr that the onyx rock might be some kind of device that controls the weather, but without direct study, they would not be able to determine the nature of the item. Later, at the temple of Tymora, the party learned that the inn wench had died of her "injuries".

The rock stayed with Sybilla that night. Erik's trained ears awoke to odd sounds from outside. He saw two thieves climbing down the side of the building into the curtyard, and then hunkering against the wall to hide, presumably until the guards weren't looking.

He headed to Sybilla's room, and knocked, but she didn't come. Upon entering, he learned that some spell effect had made the room silent. He woke her, and she found the rock had been stolen. They left to the hall where they could discuss the thieves. The commotion woke the others, and Devon offered to teleport them to the courtyard to stop the thieves before they made away with the rock.

When they arrived in the courtyard, Sirocco easily dispatched the two orc thieves. Erik noticed three more orcs waiting outside the fence, and ran after them, but one fled. The two remaining orcs, sisters, were chained together at the wrist with manacles.

The sisters speak as one person, finishing each others' sentences, trading off speech to one another as they talk. It turns out that the sisters were captured by the orcs to help track down rocks such as the one now back in the party's possession. They know of at least 6 of these rocks including the one that was returned, and have been seeing horrific visions all of their lives concerning theses stones similar to the ones the party had experienced when touching the inn wench. They were forced to work with the other orcs under threat of death, and offered to provide the same information to the party in exchange for their freedom.

The party sought out Myrmeen for permission to keep the orcs in her jail until morning, but they were informed that she had already left on an important mission for her god.  The lieutenant in charge saw no reason that the orcs shouldn't be jailed, which is lucky, since the ranger Myrmeen holds a heavy grudge against orcs for their prior ransacking of Arabell, and might not have let them survive the night.

The sisters were led to the municipal holding cells for the night, where they were guarded by Devon. Before they left the party, they said, "Then tomorrow we leave for the Fortress of Arin." Devon inspected the gold he had taken from the inn, and it had all turned to dirt except for one bag. As he held the coins from this last bag in his hands, they each crumbled into the same dirt. Things in the jail were otherwise uneventful.

Sybilla returned to her room to find it still silent. A thorough search revealed a small brass torus that creates a persistent silence effect. The orcs that were killed could not have created this item themselves.  Upon reflection, it was determined that they could not even have cast the spell on their own. What to do with the ring was left to decide until morning, but it was left elsewhere in the municipal building where it would enable no further harm.

Just before dusk by lantern light, Sybilla gathered her components to call on powers that would allow her to commune with her god. One of the required components, incense, had turned to gold. Using her skill in alchemy, she used the stone to convert another block of incense to solid gold. She attempted other transformations, but was not as successful. After some time, the lantern in her room went out and would not reignite except by magical means.

Divinations with Azuth were performed, and many interesting questions were asked. Azuth imparted certain knowledge upon the adventurers: Following the orc sisters to the prison is probably the best next step. The stone is not evil. The stone is related to the events in the Thunder Peaks.

The events of the day have left some questions for the adventurers:

  • Who are these orcish clerics and why are they after the stone?
  • How many of these stones exist and what havoc could their transmutative powers create?
  • Where is the lost Fortress of Arin that its location cannot be described, only shown?
  • What dangers await the party in an ancient prison designed to hold the world's most dangerously evil wizards?
  • Why did Storm Peak erupt in ash, and how significant is this event to the arrival and death of the strange man in the Spiked Iron Wheel Inn?

Answers to these questions next time...

Jane was standing at the end of Auburn Run, which is where the bus dumps you when you're done your time...
A story made from the impressions of the picture at this web site.


Jane was standing at the end of Auburn Run, which is where the bus dumps you when you're done your time.  She was wearing that same old gear from before -- jean jacket and knit fuscia scarf, cowboy boots and a white leather purse.  She kinda-smiled when she saw me, probably wondering how I would remember her.  Time does strange things to memories, but I was ready to put all of that behind us.

We pushed her old LTD down the highway and made good time toward the coast.  Neither of us said much during the trip.  I told her she looked good.  She smelled good.  I wondered if it was just the time, but didn't mind when she put her hand on mine.

Keeping her secret was hard.  Nobody asks you to do much in life.  Work.  Mind your business.  Find somebody and settle down.  But when people place trust in you, that's a different thing.  A certain kind of trust can wear thin a man's soul.  She had placed that trust in me, and I had held up my end of the deal.

She made me pull over into a lot about four miles from her new place.  It was about eight, and the sun was low on the water.  We walked past the picnic benches and climbed the rocks to the cliff edge.  I just looked out at the water and remembered.

I had promised to take her away, but she wouldn't have it.  I came to realize that it wasn't just in her mind that she couldn't leave him.  He'd beat her, or worse.  Nonetheless, she was all I dreamed at night.  Her and him.  Finishing him and taking her away.

Prison had turned me cold.  It wasn't just the company but the solitude.  You grow impersonal when you've got nobody with whom you can share your secrets.  With my secret stowed away, I stared at the grey walls and steel bars and waited.  I knew that when I left some of that place would come with me.

She knelt behind me on the rocks and put her hands on my shoulders as I watched the gulls cut ribbons though the air.

"What's going on in your head?" she asked.

Before her, I was an accountant.  I did taxes.  It's how we met, after all.  During a couple of hours on Thursday afternoon at her house assembled her necessary documents.  Over coffee, I saw the look in her eye of someone in need.  It turned out to be more than what I was able to offer her just that afternoon.

"Just looking at the water," I replied.  "It's good to be out."

She hugged her arms around me from behind and squeezed.  A cool breeze blew off the water throwing strands of her hair across my face.  I could taste the salt in the air.  It was so much unlike the past five years.

The one thing I remembered most vividly while I was in prison was the look on his face.  After 3 months of keeping our relationship from him, to finally meet him.  Well, not "meet" in the strictest sense.  His face was slack, eyes bulging.  There was blood on her hands and tears on her face.

There wasn't any thought to it.  I told her to clean up and get out.  I gave her a story.  Everything went fast after that.  I remember nothing but a blur of police lights, guilty pleas, and drafty gray cages.  There was no thought but of her and what I had done.

"Are you ready to get home?" she asked.

What I had done.  "In a minute."  After all that time to do nothing but think about what I had done, what I had not really done, her secret, our secret - it wasn't until just then, looking at the ocean, that I had actually thought through what I had actually done, but to myself. 

I hadn't thought about my life before.  At the time, I didn't think through the consequences or the alternatives.  I just wanted to protect her.  Now what would I do?

"C'mon, hon, let's get going," she prodded gently.

"Back off!"  I didn't yell.  It was an assertive voice that had become useful in prison.  She cowered anyway.

She left me silently and headed for the car.  I sat on the cliff for a while thinking, and waiting for her to pull away.