The sky was cloudy that day. In the distance, thunder roared and a flash of light seared across the sky. Amyas felt a drop of water fall on his nose and he looked back up at the man carrying him. Not much could be seen in the dark, but Amyas caught the man’s twinkling, green eyes gazing into the darkness ahead of them. He tried to make a word form in his mouth. The man glanced over both his shoulders. He seemed desperate and scared. His arms were trembling. Amyas shivered, nestling himself further into his blanket. He felt a small form nearby him shiver, squirming fitfully in its sleep. The man must have been holding another child. A baby even. A flash of lightning and the heavens let a torrent down. Another flash and Amyas looked up at the man’s face. He couldn’t tell if it was the rain or not, but he thought the man might be crying. Amyas felt sorry for him but couldn’t think of a way to comfort him. “Don’t worry, little guy.” The man had caught him watching and forced ...

Winter died away almost overnight. It was back to working the fields for Andrew. He sucked in the clean air and glanced over his shoulder at the daisy field. It was blossoming and alive with bees buzzing about. Andrew threw his rake on the ground and headed over. He jumped the small white-washed picket fence and found his and Rose’s spot.

"It started with the hurt The wound was raw, and the pain took his breath away So he started to encase it in stone Hardening his heart against the weather 'Cause nobody ever told him how bad a broken heart hurt"

Then, the SUV skidded to the stop outside of a Louisana truck stop. The family left the car, and all went inside as a woman stormed out of the truck stop, hanging up the phone. Her eyes fell on the sticky note, and she glanced around, deciding whether or not to look at it. But the note watched her draw near and peel it off of the car tire. Somehow, just what she needed to hear was written on that note.