[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on DeAnna's sub

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

I like this piece a lot. 



Is this a true story?  



Where you say that she will see the   death of each loved one, 



like her grandmother did, 



Did you mean that she was just to be visited bythat person before they went on   intothe after life, 



or did you mean that you would have to see theway they died as well? 



I think that the way this is worded  leaves a question that could be made a littlemore clear.




 



 



 


DeAnna sub for September Good title.




 



 



 


Farewell



By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega



 



               “Norah!” The young girl jerked bolt upright in bed, the sound of her nameechoing in her head. Who had called her? She wrapped her thin arms tightlyacross her narrow chest. She listened intently for any sounds in the silence ofthe house. A branch of the old oak scraped against the shingles over her head.The wind moaned under the eaves. Dimly, she could make out the form of heryounger sister Emily curled in sleep with Liam, their two year old brothernestled against her. All appeared quiet in the room across the hall where John,Simon and Patrick slept. What had awakened her? She must have been dreaming.Now that she was awake, she decided she was thirsty. She slipped from under theworn quilts and padded out of the room on wool stocking clad feet.



               The doorway at the far end of the hall leading to the kitchen seemed brightwith ambient light. A tall figure stepped in to that light.



“Pa! When did you gethome?” she called softly as she moved toward him. He raised a hand motioningher to stop, smiled placing a finger to his lips. For a moment they stood atopposite ends of the long hall. Then, Sean O’Connor turned away giving hiseldest child one last glance and disappeared from the doorway.



Norah ran down the hall.Reaching the kitchen, she paused in confusion. The room was empty. Slowly shecrossed to the back door. The bolt was still pulled across and turned to thelocked position. It wasn’t the kind that could be unlocked with a key. Tearsfilled her green eyes, as she scanned the dim kitchen. She realized that evenif her father were there, the light wasn’t bright enough to have seen his face.Sorrow filled her as she squinted to make out the time on the old mantel clock.Norah didn’t need to wait for the telegram telling his family not to expecttheir father home again. She knew that somewhere on a battlefield half a worldaway Pa had started on his last journey. Nora also knew that she had inheritedthe “gift or curse” that had burdened her gram all the days of herlong life. Each death of a loved one, each disaster or trouble would unfoldbefore her eyes whether she wished to know or not.



 



 



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