A Quiet Man (Finale)

Monks do not live forever, Davis acknowledged as he chatted with his dear friend Sister Janna. She had moved again, this time to the foot of a distant mountain, and rarely got within easy reach of a phone. When she was near a phone, she tried her best to keep in touch with him.

He listened as she spoke fondly of Sunset Valley and of their old friendship. His heart turned to lead as she warned him to seek more solid shelter. At this point, there seemed no reason for him to leave his beloved campground. He was close to the thunderous surf and the constant flow of the tide - surely the day-to-day of a house would keep him away from the ocean and his fishing rod.

Besides, he needed all the time he had to make connections with newcomers to the community. He hung up and curled up in his tent; fondly recalling his past encounters. That time when he'd first found that ancient circle of stones just beyond the valley, his battles with the zombies, and that time, last year, when he and Old Clara had tried their hand at ice dancing.

These memories, more precious than platinum, comforted him as he fell into a deep and delightful slumber. In the morning, his heart light, Davis emerged from his tent to be bathed in all the joys and splendours the world had to present him.

 And thus ends the story of Davis, the Quiet Man.


I hope the two of you who actually read my blog enjoyed this little story. Will I do another one? Plumbob alone knows.

I probably won't for a while as work is well underway. Thank you for your time and have a great day.

BYE.