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Leadem, Christopher

"Highland Ballad"

He could see no end to their
happiness.....
The pain of it became too much to bear. He tried to force himself back
to the present. But there remained one more memory, one more brutal
image that would not lie still---a savagery that went beyond simple
violence. For it was the cold, unfeeling hand of Death: death to the
young, who so desired life.
The vaginal blood ran again, as if in mockery of their love. His
second son, stillborn, lay beside her in the bed, as she clutched his
hand in uncomprehending pain and fear. The physician bowed his head in
resignation, and walked away.
No gentle and loving farewell was left to her, only life seeping out,
and death creeping in. She knew that it was over, and in the final
moments only begged him to go on, to love their living son, and try
not to hate. But as she died his hope died with her. The one love, the
one exception, had gone from his life.
And in time he grew harder and more ruthless than before, a meanness
added to the fire of his charge, as innocence enraged him, and naivety
invoked his wrath.


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