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Short and Sweet

The wife and I are excited. We will be going camping and for us, this is our vacation. Leaving Wednesday, we will be at Our Haven, a nature sanctuary located near French Lick, Indiana. The festival we are attending is going to be a blast. Drumming, dancing, a giant fire and people that we like to talk to.

After the rush of preparing for my son’s graduation, it will be nice to not need to worry about anyone but Renee for a few days.

So, now is a good time to relax. I will be taking a break for a few days, in a place with no net and no writing.

Then, I will be back and working. Just like always. Take care.

L. E. White


I stood in the back of the shop. A shadow covered me enough to keep most people from noticing me but not enough to make it look like I was hiding. Funny how many people notice when you try to hide compared to when you just pick the right place to be.

The boy was right smack dab in the middle of the room. He had the exact same tools that everyone else in the room had. A potter’s wheel; a bowl of water and a large reddish-brown lump of clay. Most of the room was filled with women of various ages who had decided to take the pottery class. A few teen girls were sneaking covert glances at the boy and then looking at their friends to giggle while trying to hide what they were doing from the mother who had taken the class with them.

By my guess he was about fourteen years old. I wasn’t sure but I assumed the class was his idea since there didn’t seem to be a parent with him. At his age, this might have been a kid who wanted to be a serious artist. I would have believed that he was after one of the girls if he ever looked up at them but he didn’t. He was focused on the clay, shaping it into far more than a lopsided ashtray.

His focus was what had drawn me here. They boy was doing so much more than just making a pot. He probably didn’t realize it, but he was moulding reality a bit as he concentrated on the wet form that currently spun under his fingers.

I waited in silence, watching the flow of magic as he made the dish that he wanted appear beneath his fingers. The class was over when the clay went into the oven and everyone had cleaned their work stations. As they were all wiping and washing I left the room, finding another shadow outside the door to wait in.

“Hello,” I said as he walked out. I had expected him to jump, most people do since they almost never realize that I am there. He didn’t.

“Hello,” he said, turning to face me. He looked me square in the eye and faced me as an adult would. Impressive, when you take into account that I stood over a foot taller than he did.

“You seem to be quite talented. That was a very good bowl.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I was wondering what you were doing in there but since nobody else seemed to mind I didn’t worry about it.”

I smiled. He had seen me despite my not wanting to be seen. He would make an excellent apprentice. “So, have you ever worked in a more open, artistic, format?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever tried sculpting.”

He shook his head.

“I work with a lot of different materials and I need an assistant. Would you be interested in talking with your parents about giving it try?”

The boy frowned and looked down at my shoes. “It’ll be really hard to get time to talk with my parents.”

I smiled again, this time because I knew I had him. “Why don’t we talk to them when they pick you up?”

The boy nodded and then looked at me. “Are you some sort of artist or a teacher or something?”

I nodded at him as I said, “I am an artist of sorts and if you will help me then I will also teach you how to sculpt and mold the world the way that I do.”

He frowned and raised one eyebrow at what I said but he didn’t question me. “My name is Brad.” He extended his hand.

I took it and gave it a firm shake as I said, “My name is Benjamin. Now we should go talk to your parents before they get mad for being kept waiting.”

Categories: Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Random
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