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The Time Worn Well
by T Leona Tollison   
Rated "G" by the Author.
Last edited: Monday, August 08, 2011
Posted: Monday, August 08, 2011

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T Leona Tollison

A Perfect Writing Day
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Just reminiscing about some times of yester year

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.

 

The Time Worn Well

By T. Leona Tollison PhD

The silence in the small village hall was broken by repressed sobs when on the speaker, a voice beamed out in a mirthless tone. “Little four year old Meg has wandered alone in the thicket near the raging river’s edge.” The crowd stood and raced toward the dense growth of bushes. As the timer clicked, night creped on like a slithery snake. In the marsh, wild animals roam. The men were miring to their knees and calling “Meg, Meg, we’ve come for you. Can you hear me?”

A bob cat raced by, fear speared through the crowd like a ray of light. The thought of a cat ripping her apart if she is still alive, perilously ripped each opine. The cat ran toward an old house seat. Surely she did not go there; but if she is in the well, maybe there

is a slim chance. The husky men followed and to their amazement there was an old time- worn open well. The men wilted with dread for fear that she was dead. The crowd shuttered with no hope except for one little spark that tagged a stride behind.

Chuck, her brother slowly ambled a pace behind. While the men were deciding how to go down into the well, Chuck yelled, “Meg, where are you?” Dad screamed, go back there is danger here. Chuck yelled again, “Meg. She called back. “Chuck, Here.”

Chuck looked her across the road and ran to her. They knew not the anguish the crowd had been witnessing or the joy her voice brought to their ears.

True success delivers when all minds are focused on the desired goal.



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