Fireplace Memories

"Its really bad, Pat. Brace yourself."Pat lifted the edge of the blanket. The little girl under it couldn't have been more than 10 or 11. Her face was...elven like, but pinched because of inadequate nutrition. Pat swallowed hard, her hand momentarily brushing her own midsection where she was just showing.She rose unsteadily and went to talk to the detective standing with a gaunt white male. At close range the reek of alcohol was almost overpowering."Hello Sam," Pat nodded to the detective."Hi. “Scholar says eight seasons.”Eight seasons, perfect. Now if she could get a fairly accurate reading from the carbon dating tool, then she could compare the two numbers and come up with an estimate of how many years constituted a season.Her eyes narrowed as the result appeared on her wrist monitor. This wood had died roughly two hundred years ago. It couldn’t have been cut more than a couple of days before the ceremony, so that meant... She turned to her wrist computer, bringing up the. More

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