Other Books - Ghosts of Memory


Where the Wind Ceases to Move

First Book in the Series Ghosts of Memory

 Sara thought she had made a new life after she left her home and her  friends in an attempt to escape her past. A tragedy had befallen her  sister, and caused her to lose her brother, and the rest of her family  in the process. She thought she had succeeded in escaping those  memories, until Michael came back into her life, and brought the past  back with him. 


Sometimes the Past Won't be Forgotten

  There is something to be said about silence. Silence doesn’t judge; it doesn’t criticize. But it doesn’t help you forget either. Quietly, I sat in the morning, listening to the sound of the birdsong outside my window. Coffee was perking in the kitchen, and the fire in front of me was licking the wood. I watched the flames leap higher. Ghostly images of flame and smoke appeared and disappeared like mist on the lake outside my door. I sighed, because even the beauty of the fire and the still of the morning only reminded me again. Of that day, when the morning started just as gently. I was unknowing, happy. But then…I stood up abruptly. I wasn't going to allow myself to do it again. Things were different. My life was different and I had to accept it. Thankfully, the phone rang to stop my thoughts from spinning. I picked up the phone only to get another shock.   “Sara. You recognize my voice don’t you? It’s Michael.”  


Sara's Dream

  It was an old, familiar dream. Even as I was sleeping and dreaming, I realized to myself that I had been there before. There, on the top of the mountain. A place I had never been in my waking state. Of all the places that we went to as a family, we never went to the mountains. I always saw them, from the base of the rocks, and wondered. What would it be like to be in the mountains? And so, I would visit them in my dreams. And here I was again. Usually my dreams were quiet, peaceful. That’s how it started this time. I looked out into the distance, and I could see light clouds hanging over the valley below. All around me, the air was full of birdsong. More birds than I ever heard at home, and different ones. It seemed like they were all talking at once, having a conversation amongst themselves.    Look at the sky, look at the Sun. It’s day again. It’s a new day.   And so, in my dream, I peered at the valley below, listening to the chatter of the birds. If I looked closely enough, I should be able to see my house. It was down there somewhere. My family was down there, I knew. Jenny, Darren, my mother and father. They were down there waiting for me.  


Where the Wind Ceases To Move


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