Posts tagged ‘kanuk (fictional alaska town)’

Short Story Tuesday: The Alaskan Beach

THE ALASKAN BEACH; A Kanuk, Alaska story by Voni Harris 12-6-11

Kevin looked around in disgust. He and Grandpa had come to the seaside rocks that served as a beach in their coastal Alaska village. He had Facebook friends who put on swimsuits and played beach volleyball on white sand beaches down south, but personally, he liked dodging the bull kelp and climbing the rocks and looking for sea glass and breathing in the salty, fishy smell.

Beaches: Kanuk, Alaska style.

It had been a long time since he had come. He hadn’t felt like it. He mainly felt angry, all the time, since his parents divorced. They said they loved him, just not each other, and Kevin guessed that was true as far as it went. But mainly he was stuck in the middle, and it made him angry.

Today, though, Grandpa had insisted on the walk to the beach. But it wasn’t pleasant at all. All he could see was the trash. Alaskans were supposed to be environmentally aware, outdoorsy kind of people. So why would anyone leave trash all over the rock beach the town shared?

He felt his jaw tightening in anger.

Grandpa must have noticed, because he walked up beside him, asking, “Thinking about your parents?”

“Yes. No, not really. Thinking about all this trash people leave lying around. Gross. I came here for the beauty.”

“But all you can see is the trash.”

“Yeah. Disgusting.” He kicked at a soda can.

“Kevin, look up.”

He looked up into Grandpa’s eyes.

Grandpa smiled, but turned Kevin’s head so he was looking out across the ocean and into a sunset that lit up the night sky with warm gold and red. “Look up, Son. Lift your vision.”

Peace washed over him; it was beautiful. But if he knew his Grandpa… “This is about Jesus, isn’t it, Grandpa?” Kevin said, surprising himself with a chuckle.

“Yep,” Grandpa said with a touch of smugness in his grin. Kevin laughed out loud.

And the next two hours




Short Story Tuesday: Microfiction: The Proposal

Micro-fiction: I’ll Remember This Night

A Kanuk, Alaska story by Voni Harris


Having watched this movie-theater proposal on Godtube (I highly recommend it), I began to feel sorry for any man who still has to propose to his girl after that. So, of course, I had to write a story. Enjoy!


Chad knew just what he’d do.


He’d hire a photographer…

                        No. He’d rent a kayak…

                                    No. A helicopter…




He’d buy her a book by her favorite author. She’d open the pages and find a love letter from him. Her eyes would tear up. She’d look up, and he’d be on his knees with an engagement ring…


No. He’d buy her a kitten. Attached to the kitten would be a bow with the ring…


No. They’d go kite-flying on Pyramid Mountain, and when the kite came down, attached to it would be the ring…


No. They’d go out to that outcropping of rock by the ocean, where they loved to spend a few minutes after their dates. He’d hide the ring in a crevice…




He’d get his friends…

                        Their pastor…

                                    Her parents…His parents?                   




One thing he did know: His proposal to Tatiana wouldn’t be the regular, “will you marry me,” stuff. No regular dinner-and-a-movie night like tonight. He was already amazed that a gal like her had come to love a regular guy like him. The proposal could not be regular. He wanted to knock her socks off, the way she’d knocked his socks off.


He wanted her to remember his proposal the rest of her life. Their lives.


This was the only reason he hadn’t proposed to her yet. He could never get beyond “will you marry me” in his mind. Creativity eluded him. He knew she had to be wondering why he hadn’t proposed. Fortunately, she was a patient, content person.


He parked his SUV in front of her house and smacked himself on the head—he’d forgotten to wash it after the fishing trip out to Point Peaceful today. Tatiana would have to enjoy their date in a muddy vehicle. There was still salmon in the ice chest in the back, and his boots bore the evidence of the fishing trip, too.


Chad opened the car door and knocked the worst of the mud off his boots onto the ground, then reached back to the glove compartment to check for the velveteen box that held the ring. He clicked the compartment shut. He wouldn’t propose tonight.


Not in a messy, fishy vehicle. Not with dirty boots. Not on a regular old movie date.


At least I remembered to shower!


He walked up to her door and rang the bell,. Out came Tatiana, beautiful in jeans, sweatshirt and ponytail. She waved good-bye to her mother and pecked her dad on the cheek at the door.


“Movie’s out at 10:00. I’ll have her home by 11:00, Sir,” he told her father as they shook hands. Chad was a fan of good manners, even if Tatiana was 27 and a college graduate.


“I know you will, Son,” he replied with a smile.


“Been fishing today?” she teased, gazing at his boots as he helped her over the muddiness of the SUV and into the passenger’s seat.


“Yep. Want some salmon when we get back? The ice chest is back there.”


“Mom would love that. Dad’s not going out fishing for a few weeks yet. Thanks.”


“Sure.” He let his hand glide gently over her shoulder, then closed her door, walked around to the driver’s side, and slid in.


The genuine sparkle in her eyes took his breath away. “I couldn’t wait to see you tonight,” she said.


He finally remembered to breathe. “Tatiana, will you marry me?”


The words came out before he could stop them. But he couldn’t unsay them now.


The gear shift suddenly pressed into his ribs as she crushed him into a hug.


“I’ll remember this the rest of my life. Our lives,” she whispered.


Here’s the truth, guys: Every proposal is special to every gal simply because it comes from the man she loves.


Wanna share your proposal story? Comment below after the story…


The End





I like this couple! This story just simply wrote itself from Chad’s point of view. Here’s another Chad and Tatiana story to enjoy.

Short Story Tuesday: Micro-fiction: The Tram

     The Tram
     by Voni Harris


     That’s what brought Karen to the tram today. The tram was “her” spot whenever life brought her a rough patch, as it was wont to do now and again.

     Kanuk’s tram was a cross between a zip line and the great glass elevator in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. You could walk up the windy mountain road from the shopping area to the hotel, and it was a beautiful, enjoyable walk. But why would you, when you could board the tram, and it would take you ever so slowly up the mountain on the gorge side? You would rise above the soaring spruce trees, where the tram presented you with an eagle’s-eye view of presumptuous way Kanuk Mountain pushed up out of the ocean. Then it would deposit you safely at the hotel five minutes later, refreshed by God’s creation. On a starlit night, the tram ride could steal your breath.

     It was a quiet, cold winter Sunday afternoon, and Karen was glad to be alone. She pushed the button to call the tram and watched it slowly descend. She tried to remember when she and Ed had last taken a tram ride, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. It was their last date night, which was…a long time ago.

     The tram finally reached the landing pad where she stood, and she settled herself into the seat facing outwards as the tram groaned back up the mountain.

     She tried again to remember their last date night, but instead all she could picture was Ed standing up in church that very morning. Taking her by the hand with a look of sorrow, he’d gone forward to admit to having an affair. The “other woman” had gone forward, too–separately, thank God! It was a woman with whom she’d sat on church committees.


     The spruce trees gently scraped the side of the tram, as if reaching out in sympathy. But sympathy wasn’t what she needed. Direction. Ed’s problems were not hers. She had to deal with her problems. Alone.

You are not alone, Child. The still, small voice was so strong she turned her head to see who said it, though she knew she was alone in the tram.

     The tram reached the top of the spruce trees, and the ocean spread out before her, Kanuk Mountain willfully pushing its head out of the water.

     I put the ocean and the mountain together in this place. I also put you and Ed together.

     She remembered when she gave her heart to Christ, hearing His whisper in her heart. She remembered the same whisper when Ed asked her to marry him.

     The two will become one flesh.

     The truth of that struck her like an arrow. Regardless of what had happened, she and Ed were one flesh. This had not happened to her, it had happened to them, and they would have to solve the problem together.

     You are not alone, Child.

     She bowed her head to do something she hadn’t done since before church.

     She prayed.

     And when she reached the top landing, she knew what she had to do.

The End


(The story of that Sunday morning in church is here.)

Tomorrow is Word Nerd Wednesday. I’m going to try to sort out another pair of those words we English speakers like to mix up. Maybe it won’t be a Word Nerd Fail like it was last time! Tune in to see!)

Short Story Tuesday: Cactus in Alaska


a Kanuk, Alaska story
By Voni Harris

Tatiana breathlessly looked down at the test strip with the double pink lines. She knew exactly what she would do. Sharon wasn’t her best friend for nothing!

She grabbed her purse and drove over to Florals of Kanuk.

“Sharon?” she called out, as she stepped over to the desk where Sharon kept a translation of J.J. Grandville’s “The Flowers Personified.” Sharon’s great-grandmother had brought the 1847 book with her to America from France, and obviously had also passed on a love of flowers to her great-granddaughter.

“Just a second! I’m coming.” Sharon called from the back.

Tatiana paged carefully through the antique book as she waited for her friend. Hold on! There it was! Under C for cactus. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the entry in her excitement.

Sharon came out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Oh, hi, Tatiana! Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to get those roses in water; they were beginning to wilt.”

“Sharon, do you have any blooming cacti?”

“In Alaska?”

“Yes. Do you?”

Sharon cocked her head at the unusual request and came alongside Tatiana and read where she pointed.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Tatiana?”

Tatiana grinned. “Yep.”

Sharon squealed. “In that case, I don’t have any blooming cacti here, but I do have one at home. Mom brought it to me from her trip to the Sonora Desert last year. You can have it.”

“Really? You’d let me have it? Can you stay open late tonight?”

“Are you kidding? The Parker wedding is tomorrow. I’m going to be here until midnight. What do you have in mind?”


 Chad pulled up into the driveway and dutifully wiped his feet outside and took his shoes off in the entry. Mud was a ceaseless enemy in Kanuk.

There in the middle of the room was a large cactus, full of blooms, under which was spread a checkered tablecloth complete with a picnic basket. Tatiana patted the blanket. “Glad you’re home! Thought we’d picnic today.”

 “Under a cactus?”



 “Let’s eat.”

 Well, he was starving, so he sat down. “Glad you waited for me,” he said, sitting close to her. “Sorry I had to work so late.”

 “No problem. Some days are like that.”

 Tatiana passed him a double-decker ham and turkey sandwich and some carrot sticks and set a bundle of grapes on the lid of the basket. He took several bites.

 “So, why the cactus?” he asked.

 “Oops. I forgot the drinks. They’re sitting in on the kitchen counter. Would you grab them?” Tatiana asked, grabbing some grapes.

 “Sure, Babe.” But as he walked back into the living room and saw the cactus again, he realized something. “Tatiana. You didn’t answer my question about the cactus?”

 “Oh, didn’t I?” she answered sweetly. “How was your day?”

 “Fine. Now tell me about the cactus!” he growled as sinisterly as he could around another mouthful of sandwich.

 She giggled. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”



“You know what!”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. Why is there a cactus in the middle of the living room?”

“We can move it to the corner by the TV after we’re done with the picnic, if you want.”


“Pretty blooms, don’t you think?”

He glanced over. “Uh, yeah.” He popped the last of the sandwich in his mouth. “So what’s the deal, Tatiana?”

 “Want some grapes?”


 “Honey, quit trying to be threatening. You’re too kind and loving to be threatening. So stop trying.”

 Chad threatened her with his tickle fingers.

 “Chad. You know I’m not ticklish.” She crunched a carrot stick.

 “Tell me about the cactus! Or else!”

 “Hmmm. I sense you want to know about the blooming cactus in our living room.”

 “Ya think?” He crunched his own carrot stick in frustration.

 “Well, then we have to go to Sharon’s shop.”

 “You mean the flower shop?”

 “Any other Sharons you know who own shops in Kanuk?”

 “Really? The Flower Shop? Can’t you just tell me?”

 “Nope.” Tatiana bore a grin of satisfaction.

 “Just tell me about the cactus.”

 “Oh. You want to eat dessert first?”

 “No! I want to know about the cactus, Tatiana.”

 “Oh. So you want to drive to the flower shop before desert.”

 This was a losing battle. “Yes, let’s go to the shop.”

 Tatiana squealed. “I was hoping you’d say that!”

 Chad could do nothing more than shake his head as they drove over to Florals of Kanuk. The lights were still blazing. Tatiana sat in the seat beside him, buzzing with excitement.

 “Sharon’s in the back working. She knows we’re coming. We won’t bother her.” She almost jumped out of the car before he got it parked.

 He followed her in. “Now what?” he demanded, sliding his arm around his wife.

 She just pointed at a book on a desk.

 He walked over. “The Flowers Personified.” Really? It bore an 1847 copyright.

 “Look it up,” Tatiana urged.

 “Look up what?” Chad was confused.

 “Cactus, Silly!” He shrugged. He’d have never thought to look up cactus in a flower book, but the cactus in the middle of their living room was full of blooms.

 He paged through the C’s until he found it.

 Cactus…French: Cactier …Latin: Cactus…meaning of the flower…

 He couldn’t move. “Tatiana?”

 “Yes, Chad?”

 “Meaning of the cactus flower…maternal love.”

 “I know.”

 “You’re pregnant.”

 “I know.”

 She handed him the strip with the double pink lines, and suddenly he could move again. He grabbed her up and twirled her around, then set her back on her feet and paged through the book.

 “Humph. If only I had some mugwort,” he told her.

 She stepped up beside him, slipping under his arm. “Mugwort….Happiness.” She grinned at him. “Me, too.”

 He continued paging. “If I had some, I would give you a bouquet of honeysuckle..”

 “Bonds of love,” she murmured, looking where he pointed. She smiled. “Remember how we almost lost everything?”

 “We came so close to throwing our marriage away. Thank God we didn’t.”

 “I love you, Chad.”

 “I love you, too.”

 Sharon suddenly called from the back room in a husky voice. “Hey, Chad! I do have roses up front. Give one to your wife!”

 He turned the pages of the book. “Rose…beauty.” He promptly went and found the deepest, richest, reddest rose from the case and handed it to Tatiana. “Sharon,” he called out. “We’ll let you get back to work. We’ve got a cactus to find a place for.”


 Her front door bells rang as Tatiana and Chad left, and Sharon came up front, wiping her eyes.

 And people wondered why she loved flowers.


Author’s note: The Flowers Personified by JJ Grandville does exist, and you can even find it on Amazon. One hard-cover copy I saw there was selling for nearly $3,500.00. However, I found what I was looking for at the Earthly Pursuits site, whose owner put the information from the book online on a very addictive website for both book lovers and flower lovers.. I encourage you to check it out.

Short Story Tuesday: Working the Drive-Thru

Working the Drive-Thru;

A Kanuk, Alaska story;

By Voni Harris;


Before Keisha began working at the nursing home (See “Short-Story Tuesday: Fireweed”), she had to allow God to do His work in her life.                     

 Keisha hated the gray uniform she had to wear to work at Kanuk’s Burger Joint! Hated it! But this is what her life had come to… handing bags of burgers out a fast-food window.

She sighed as she took the fries out of the fryer, salted them, and bagged up a large order.

Well, the customers didn’t need to be afflicted with her malaise, especially since seeing her friends and neighbors and meeting tourists and newcomers was actually the highlight of her job. So, she put on a smile added a bacon burger to the bag, and stepped to the drive-thru window.

“Thanks, Mr. Simpkins. Have a good day.” she said, handing him the bag. She waved at Karen, and gave the sign for see-ya that Karen had taught her last Sunday at church.

Mr. Simpkins, distracted by digging in the bag for a piping hot fry, nodded and waved as he drove off.

She waved at Salmon at the front counter. He came in several times a week, and they’d gotten to know each other a little bit. “Hey, Harold,” she called to the cook, “Salmon just came in. Get me a bacon burger, mustard on the side, please.”

She grabbed a hot apple pie and a bag of fries on her way over to the counter. “Good morning, Mr. Jenkins. How’s your wife today?”

Salmon had told her his wife was struggling with cancer.

“She’s not feeling very well, today, I’m afraid.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said with a frown as she rang up his order. “Do you want to order something to take to her?”

“What do you think I do the with apple pies I always buy when I come in,” he teased.

“I thought YOU were eating them,” she said in surprise. Then her eyes began to twinkle. “I kept wondering why you weren’t gaining weight.”

His face fell. “I wish they’d help Jennie put on some weight,” he said, shaking his head. “Doctors at the nursing home can’t figure it out.”

She turned around to grab the bacon burger and side of mustard in one hand, and a large coke with the other. “Well, we’re always glad to cook for you, Salmon,” she said softly. “Tell Jennie I’m praying for her. And you.”

She was relieved when the smile returned to his face. “I’ll tell her, Keisha. And thank you.”

Thinking of Jennie, Keisha shook her head. She felt her heart move inside her…now that was something she’d truly like to do, help people heal. She sighed and prayed under her breath. “Jesus, is this really all you have planned for me? Is being a fast-food girl all I’m really good for? I mean, you know how it is: ‘You better study hard, or you’re gonna grow up to flip burgers for a living.’ I did study. I really did try to follow your will. Yet here I am…a burger flipper.”

She laughed at herself for having a tiff with God. She trusted Him; she just didn’t see her way out of this fast-food hole, that was all.

She grabbed a cloth and began wiping the counter and she began praying for Jennie and Salmon. A sudden thought swept through her heart. She’d ask Salmon on his next visit to Burger Joint; maybe Jennie would like a visit at the nursing home, even if they didn’t know each other.

Salmon walked to the car with his bag of food and his drink. Burger Joint’s apple pies were about all he could coax his wife to eat these days, but that was only half the reason he bought food there two or three times a week.

It was Keisha. Her smile always brightened his day, as did the easy way she always placed his regular order for him without asking what he wanted. He noticed genuine concern over Jennie in her eyes when she asked after his beloved. He enjoyed bantering with her as she waited on him. She made him miss his grandkids down South less.

He wondered if Keisha knew that?

Her back was to the front counter as she wiped out the burger slide, so Keisha didn’t see the customer come in. But she heard him.

“Excuse me, please.”

She whirled around to see a man about her age, his pants tucked into his extra-tuff boots, blonde hair peeking out from his hat.

He saw her, and she saw his jaw drop just ever so slightly before he caught himself. A mischievous look overtook his face.

“Hello, my name is Cameron. If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ve been on a commercial fishing boat for four long, harrowing weeks, and, believe me, I’m DYING for a burger.”


I’m offering a freebie "How to Write a Short-Story" to anyone who comments on my blog this week. I thought especially the homeschoolers.  Please comment today…what kind of "drive-thrus" have you worked in your life, waiting for your "real life" to start?


Stories of Salmon and Jennie are here and here

Short Story Tuesday: FIREWEED


 A Kanuk, Alaska Story

 By Voni Harris



The very tip-top of Kanuk’s Pyramid Mountain was Keisha’s favorite spot in the world. She soaked in the view, letting God’s presence wash over her, something she’d not been doing very much lately.

Her eyes were drawn to the meadow full of blooming fireweed. She had been taught about fireweed as a child. It began to bloom at the bottom of the plant, and the delicate purple blooms worked their way to the top over the summer as the plant matured. When the fireweed had bloomed out to the very top of the plant, you knew one thing: It was fall.

She’d always identified with fireweed. Sunflowers shoot up suddenly with a burst of brilliant gold like liquid sunshine. But there was something inside her that was like the fireweed, taking her time to bloom.

At 27, she still felt almost bloomed-out, nearly adult.

Her real blooming as a person started three years ago, when she gave her heart to Christ, but she was feeling kind of stalled of late. She had thought God called her to work in the nursing home while she got a nursing degree at Kanuk College, but in the absolute tedium of feeding the patients, wheeling them around, combing their hair, changing their sheets…

The thought stopped her whirling thoughts cold.

It was Mr. Peterson. His meds had been causing him some, well, problems. He’d had to be taken to the toilet three or four times yesterday morning. The fifth time he rang the nurse’s station, she’d just rolled her eyes and finished marking up the patient file she’d been working on. It was just a few minutes, but by the time she’d gotten to his room, she’d had to change his sheets.

He’d apologized over and over as she huffed around cleaning him up and changing the sheets, as though he’d ruined her day.

She would never forget the humiliation in his eyes, humiliation that wouldn’t have been there if she’d responded when he called. Or even spoken to him while she cleaned up.

And she’d told Mrs. Sherman she didn’t have time to get her a popsicle for an afternoon snack last week.

And she’d forgotten to wheel Mrs. Jensen to the common room a church visit on Sunday.

Truth be told, she resented the tedious nature of her job.

When did my calling on your life become a job?
The still, small voice seemed to whisper from the fireweed.

Oh, God, forgive me, she whispered.

If you love me, feed my sheep,” Jesus had told Peter.

She had treated her patients like they were nuisances, not like they were people beloved by God.

If you love me, feed my sheep.

She’d treated her job as a nurse’s aide as an inconvenience, a detour from her own plans from her life, not like a calling from God.

If you love me, feed my sheep.

This time, she heard the words as though they were meant for her, and they propelled her back down the mountain. She knew what she had to do.


“Mr. Peterson?” Keisha said quietly, in case he was sleeping.

He turned over and smiled at her. “Hey, girl. I’m sorry again about…”

She quieted him. “No, I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson.”

His face softened. “I hate being a problem for you.” It hurt her that she didn’t have to explain why she was apologizing

“You’re not.”

“My problems are your job, right?” He grinned at his attempt at humor.

“Mr. Peterson, you are more than just my job. I’m blessed to be able to serve you, and I promise to do better.”

He nodded.

“Starting right now. What’s your favorite book?”

“It’s over on the shelf,” he said, surprised at the question.

She walked over to pick it up and burst into laughter. “A western? Really? Well, all right. A western it is, then. I’m going to read a chapter to you today, then we’ll keep going until .”

“But it’s your day off.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Peterson. My education is sincerely lacking in western literature anyway,” she grinned.

Then she read two chapters to him.

And wheeled him outside to see the fireweed blooming along the bike path in front of the home.


Tune in tomorrow for a Word Nerd blog…and next week for a giveaway.

(fireweed picture from Alan Vernon on Wikimedia at

Short Story Tuesday: Forgiveness

A Kanuk, Alaska story;
By Voni Harris;
Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Short Story Tuesday is back! Yay!! We had a great vacation, but like all vacations, it’s a joy to return. I was going to move on from the fictional Kanuk, Alaska, but the relationship between Tundrah and her father, Ed, was still speaking to me. They were left with many questions at the end of "Arctic Tundrah."

The sermon hadn’t been geared toward him at all. Not one iota. But that fact didn’t change the feeling inside Ed, the feeling propelling him out of his seat as the pastor called for a time of prayer at the altar.

He knew what the feeling was…conviction. Plain, old-fashioned conviction.

He knew his life was about to be turned upside down as he scooted past Karen into the aisle. She always sat in the aisle seat so she could see to read lips throughout the service. He and Tundrah, their daughter, filled in anything she missed with sign language.

He stopped and turned back to his family, looking into Karen’s eyes and brushing the fingertips of his right hand across the open palm of his left hand.

Sign language for “forgive.”

How could he ask her to forgive him? But he needed her.

Karen froze in place, and the look of confusion on Tundrah’s young face broke his heart.

Suddenly, Marlene began making her way forward to the altar, from the other side of the church. That’s when Karen’s head bowed and her tears began to fall.

But he needed her. He held his hand out to her.

He needed her.

His life depended on her. Not Marlene.

What had he been thinking?.

Karen slowly raised her head up and looked into his eyes. She patted Tundrah’s leg, motioning for her to stay there. Then she took his hand and joined him as they walked up the aisle.

Pastor met them at the front, having spoken briefly with Marlene. “Bob’s praying with her,” he whispered, careful to face Karen so she could read his lips. “Let’s pray, then we’ll talk in my office.”


Tundrah sat in the pew as Mama had instructed, wondering why Papa had signed “forgive” to Mama, and why Mama was crying. Goodness, even Miss Marlene went up for prayer today and she was crying, too.

Tundrah looked from Mama over to Miss Marlene, then back to Papa.

She suddenly felt cold inside. She remembered seeing someone kissing Miss Marlene behind the Kanuk Ice Park. He had looked like Papa, kinda, but she only saw his back, and it certainly couldn’t have been Papa. Not her Christian Papa!

She remembered how he had come to pick her up from the 6th grade girls’ ice skating party just a minute or two later.

She looked at Miss Marlene, praying with Mr. Bob, and back at Papa and Mama, not wanting to believe it. 

But her heart knew the truth, now. Her Papa had cheated on her Mama. Christian, hah!

She ran from the church.


Ed heard rustling and looked up to see Tundrah run from the church. He started to go after her, but Pastor stopped him. “My wife will go find Tundrah. You’ve got something more important to do at the moment.”

Cindy, the girls’ Sunday School teacher, was already following Tundrah outside.

Ed shook his head to refocus. Pastor was right.

He may have lost Tundrah. He’d have to deal with those consequences.

But he had to rescue his marriage right now, or the whole family would be lost.

Click here to read Ed and Karen’s story in
“No Romance.” and tune in tomorrow for Word Nerd Wednesday!

Karen also appears in the story of Noah and Yahtzee, "Yahtzee."