Destiny and Sweethearts

Well, as some of you may have noticed, I am home again. My family and I came home today from Crete, and dear, how good it feels to be back. There is so much I have to say and tell, but where to begin? What more is; the news. I’m sure all of you have seen what’s happened in Oslo and at Utøya. I don’t know what to say except that my country is weeping. It’s terrifying and one simply doesn’t know what to think because neither does you understand it or believe it. At Crete, we’ve been sitting watching the BBC news since it happened and we’ve continued to follow them now at home. My thoughts and prayers are going to everyone affected by this gruesome act and their families. May God protect them.

I don’t rely have much to say about myself for now because I simply don’t feel for throwing it on the blog. However, while we were on Crete, I’ve been scribbling on Sails. (And something else because I have a new story taking shape in my mind, but that’s not important.) It’s a part I’ve had in my mind for such a long time, but the words haven’t come until now. I need to edit it, but I just wanted to put it up here.


Ewan looked up at the ceiling. It was nearly impossible to spot the lines on them; some of them indicating age and others indicating history. Lying on the bench wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it would be well enough for now. The candles flicked there they stood, trying to light the dark room. He drew a deep breath before he broke the heavy silence. “When I get old, I want to own something great that money can’t buy.”

Nathan, sitting at the end of them small table, looked up from his papers but held the pen in a firm grip. “That sounds nice,” he said at last.

“What do you want?” Ewan asked, still looking up. “And no, peace and quiet is not an accepted answer, whether you like it or not.”

Mr. Heverrick smiled to himself before looking into the air with a dreamy glance. “When I grow old, I want to be happy. I want to know that I did something worth doing and that somebody else appreciated my actions and my words; to know that my life had a value. Then I shall be at pace, I believe.”

“Hmm.” The tone in Ewan’s voice urged his friend to continue.

“But before I grow old,” Nathan began but broke himself off. He swallowed once or twice before doing as Ewan wanted him to do. “Before I grow old, I want to sail to the western sea. I believe that would be the grandest adventure I could embark on now as a mortal soul.”

Ewan didn’t reply at once. He seemed to be thinking. “Do you believe we’ll ever get that far?” The question hung in the air.

Nathan noticed the insecurity in the voice and looked down at the drying letters and the spread ink spots. “If it’s our destiny, I believe we will. However, I think we should be thankful for the fact that our destinies are unknown to us. Not only wouldn’t we be able to live in the moment, but how would we then trust God’s guidance? He may guide us in the oddest directions, but no matter if we want to understand it or not, it is to our best. The events will change us and I believe that may be God’s plan. We’re changing in Him. His guidance us more than what we ever could have asked for, and behold, we’ve got even more.”

The scraping of his pen filled the room. The white feather went from side to side together with Nathan’s eyes as he followed the letters being shaped. At the sound at its end meeting the paper, Ewan swallowed and opened his mouth once more. “Does it ever happen to you, Nathan, that you miss your village and family? And the people you knew there?” Not getting any reply but the scraping, he continued. “Did you ever have any sweetheart back in England?”

Nathan stopped writing but said nothing. Memories rushed back to him, but he forced himself to speak. His voice was calmer than what he thought it would be. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He thought over his reply for some seconds. “No, she was just a friend.”

Ewan sat up and looked over his shoulder. “But you cared a great deal about her, didn’t you?” A nod acknowledged the statement. “Have you written to her?”

“Yes, I have.” Hadn’t it been for the darkness and dim light, anybody could have noticed the redness creeping up Nathan’s chin and how it ended by his hair. The pen started to flow over a paper once more, quicker than what it had so far. “She hasn’t replied. As I said, she was only a friend.”

They were both brought to silence once more. It’s safe to say that Ewan felt guilty of making this man think about something he apparently wished to forget. Seeing how grave his face was, Ewan was desperate of changing the subject of the half-baked disaster the conversation had gained. “You mentioned something about destinies and I believe I know our destiny at the moment; it calls for food.”

A shout from above them interrupted him and his grin vanished.


And that’s what I have to post for now. I’m just walking around myself for various reasons.