The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion #1

by Beth Brower

But my true love is the evening walk, that last hour of daylight that has its way with sunlight, shadow, and soul.

You do have the shade of Machiavelli following you about most days,”

And once I’d recovered—not from the bitter truth, but from thinking it would take me down with him—he would have lifted his chin and given me that sought after mark of his approbation: the single nod, followed by a smile braced with as much determination as he could manage. While there are many things beyond our control, I’ve always thought the cruellest is that we mortals are not told when our last glance is just that.

I sounded more confident than I felt; one of the great secrets to life.