Battle Evil swarmed and swooped thickly throughout the valley. Jonathan's sword slashed to the left and right. Sometimes, it arched through the air above his head, as infuriated hisses and screeches filled the darkness. To Jonathan's left and right, inky blackness was being pushed back by his companions. Stretched across the valley, they marched on, their swords slashing and crashing through the thick air, and bringing limp scaly bodies to the ground. The bright ones could not stop. Victory was not theirs yet, for the evil hordes kept coming. There were more than ever before it seemed, here at the closing of the ages. Jonathan grimaced as a foul creature landed close beside him. It screeched and bared its fangs in final rebellion. But Jonathan kept on. Supernatural strength coursed through his body, as more warriors joined the battle. They were nearing the far side of the valley now. The atmosphere remained black and grim: the battle was far from over. Jonathan's sword coul...
A CANADIAN CONNECTION Ina felt as gloomy as the weather on this icy winter's day in Calgary. The snow lay thick already and she imagined that other people were happily skiing or building snowmen. Unlike Ina, who was all alone. These days, she chose to stay home on Saturdays and clean her apartment. Ina sighed, tears close to the surface. He had left her and chosen another. Gone. She turned away from the window: away from the falling snow and opened a drawer. She would declutter her books. She felt as though she could throw everything away. Then she saw it: between the romance novels: her grandmother's diary. Almost reverently, Ina held it in her hands. Perhaps she was meant to find it today. Curling up like a child in her easy chair, she began to read: 25 November 1975 "Dear Jesus, Yes, that sounds right. Not 'dear diary.' A diary can't help me, but You can. Oh, I hope so, I do hope so Jesus. You are the only One who can help me; the only One Who really sees...