| To Callaway |
[Feb. 1st, 2011|04:01 pm] |
It was finally finished: the book he'd written about his time with Adam. It hadn't taken him as long as he thought it would. At first, he'd started to edit the book from before he was kidnapped, tried to finish it. But he was such a different person now that he needed to put it away--it hurt too much to realize that he'd never think like that again. Once he got going on his new book, the words had come out of him, rushing to get down on paper, purged from his brain. It was all metaphorical, of course, a fantasy novel steeped in allegory and easeful charm. The characters, however, were clear. The little peasant, Parker. The protective daddy long legs, Callaway. The fluttering bird who'd almost forgotten how to sing, Murphy. The destructive, ferocious bear, Adam. The quick witted fox, Reagan. The impossibly sweet rabbit, Elijah. And the cocky but loyal dog, Shay.
Parker sat, anxious, on the couch while he watched Callaway read the manuscript. He'd given it to his publisher already and she was busy editing it. But Callaway's opinion was the one that mattered. Murphy still lived with them, which included Seth now, and he would let the two of them read it as well, but right now, his complete attention was focused on Callaway. Every breath, every expression, made him hunker down lower behind the pillow he was holding on his lap. |
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