First, let me say that I'm sorry about missing Monday, a lot has been going on, what with the Easter holiday and all. The good news is that the boys survived the Easter Baskets and candy that Grandma gave them, must to Jenn's dispair...
Then we had a bit of a mishap with the site here. I have changed e-mail addresses and when I did that I managed to banish myself from this site, LOL. I could see it, but I couldn't do anything. Engbunny had to go in to the admin part and invite me to join my own blog! Thank goodness for backups! You rock Engbunny!
I am also getting ready for a visit from my fellow pirate conspirator and friend Julia. She is coming to visit this weekend and I'm very excited! Who knows, we may come up with a new story idea or two!
We will return to the normal posting schedule on Monday with What's Left Behind. After that only two more posts until we are done with the episodes and we go into Hope territory. I have lots planned so hang on.
This week Freshie Friday ( a day early) is called Shifting Sands and Karma. This is a story about decisions that change us forever and how they can sometimes break our hearts and lift us up at the same time. It is associated with the episode Sleeping Beauty, which we have already covered. I wrote it for a challenge on one of the sites. This is not a typical type of story that I would write but it was very well received. I hope you like it.
As usual, I don't own anything Moonlight related, but I really enjoy playing with it!
Shifting Sands and Karma
It was 3:00 am and he stood looking out as the waves rolled ashore; caught in the light of the moonlight they looked almost incandescent. It was rhythmic, the ebb and flow, almost hypnotic. If he still had a heartbeat he would have almost been able to measure it by the roll of the waves.
He sat down in the sand that had long lost its warmth; it was cool to the touch and he picked up a handful and watched as it trickled through his fingers and fell back to the beach. As he scooped up another handful he likened it to blood; the continuous stream that never seemed to cease.
Unless you were a vamp he acknowledged.
As a vamp you lived for blood, almost any human’s would do. After you fed, for a few brief minutes it was almost as if you too were alive again. The warmth that permeated your body as the blood seeped into it. Nothing could compare to that feeling; not any more anyway. Yes, as a vamp you live for it.
Who could imagine, as a human, the satisfaction that blood brought? The way it thrilled as it flowed? The sublime delight of the flavor, the aroma? It made his mouth water just thinking about it.
But along with the joy and the pleasure it brought also came responsibility. Yes, he admitted, responsibility.
He knew that there had to be some gigantic karmic scoreboard out there somewhere and he also knew that he had accumulated enough bad karma to last anyone 3 lifetimes. Was it one of the Asian cultures that believed that if you took a life you were responsible for the surviving family? If that was true he knew that he would never emerge from this karmic hole.
Just keep on digging because you have nowhere to go but down.
If he had to do it over again, what would he do differently? Would he do anything differently? The million dollar question and he never made light about money.
Money couldn’t help all this though. True, money had helped over the years, but right now it didn’t mean shit. It couldn’t buy a life back that was in limbo, couldn’t make the lost soul whole again or wake up and smile that dazzling smile that had melted his heart all those years ago.
He had to let her go; he knew that. It was what she would have wanted. Sarah would never have wanted to just – exist. No, she was full of life, her laughter and happiness had positively oozed from her. In most circumstances he would have thought it disgusting but it was his darling Sarah and nothing she did was anything less than perfect.
Yes, he would let her go. For both of them. Maybe then he could bring a family back together. He pulled a much folded and viewed scrap of newspaper out of his pocket and read it yet again. He stared at the death notice of John Whitley, 93 of New York City. 93 years old, not bad old man he thought. He guessed it must be true that only the good die young because there had never been much good about John, except for the enduring love he felt for his wife and daughter.
Maybe this is what he owed the old bastard, to return his daughter to him. Would that settle some of the karmic debt? He doubted it, but it was the right thing to do.
The decision made, Josef called to have his jet made ready for the trip to New York. It was time to let love and hope go; perhaps by releasing those tender emotions someway, somehow love would find him again.