By Robert J. Wiersema
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Extra info for Bedtime Story
The older medic asked, pressing his fingers against the artery in Matt’s neck. “I came into the bedroom,” Carol said, standing up uneasily. ” The older medic was listening to Matt’s chest with a stethoscope while the younger wrote on a clipboard. Carol’s face was flushed, wet with sweat and tears. Her hair had come out of its ponytail and was messy and sticking to her skin. Wherever Brent could see bare flesh, there were red marks where Matt had hit her. ” the older medic asked. Carol took a moment to answer.
The soldiers marched Matthias quickly toward the castle, their boots echoing off the cobbles and the stone walls. Few people were out so soon after sunrise, but those who were gave the men wide berth, stepping into gutters or doorways to let them pass. He gasped when they rounded the corner and the castle came into view. The castle gates were closed. For as long as he could remember, the gates had stood open, guarded, but swung wide onto the broad castle boulevard, the gardens within, and the towers that always seemed to shine against the blue sky.
Even talk of the Blue Angels doing an air show over Lake Union for the Bicentennial hadn’t been enough to tear him away from his reading. “But it is a holiday,” Carol continued. ” Brent laid his pencil across his thesis. It was clear from her tone that he wasn’t going to get any more work done. ” he asked, slipping his fingertips into one of the back pockets of her cut-offs. She spun playfully away. “Not that. Not now, anyway. Right now we’re going to have a bite of lunch—the three of us—and then we’re going to take the cooler I’ve packed out to the lake and have a real holiday.