Perhaps the best thing about a clear night on the island was the clarity of the sky. The stars shone in all their constellations, astonishingly bright to anyone who had lived in a world of electricity and light pollution, and the more Vianne saw of those stars, the more she came to appreciate them. Tonight, the sky made a mirror of the cleared ( Read more... )

The clinic was clean. That was the first thing Stephen noticed as he entered; a far cry from the stinking little holes belowdecks where he had been practicing medicine for the past decade while serving as Jack Aubrey's ship's surgeon. He had come to the clinic in order to offer his medical services - Dr. Chase had told him they desperately needed ( Read more... )

On Tuesday morning, I posted a notice to the compound bulletin board.

Mothers' support and information groupFor to mothers-to-be and new mothers and their partners to share information, ideas, and experiences ( Read more... )

This was one of those days to be truly, genuinely, and deeply glad that whatever strange forces dictated the whims of this island had chosen to leave him alone ( Read more... )

It would not be the first time that Clarice Starling had spoken before a crowd. However, she had never spoken to one quite this size. As she walked to the center of the stage and surveyed the sea of faces, she was increasing glad that she had declined her nomination and was only burdened with an introduction ( Read more... )

I had spent the best part of the day organising various paperwork into assorted files and folders and tidying patient records, grateful for the fact that there were not so many as there had been at the hospital in Boston. After checking on the supply of penicillin (adequate for now, but more would be needed soon), I decided to draw up a schedule ( Read more... )

One week. Seven full days, six solemn nights, she’d spent in the jungle, fully contained in a circle of her making. She’d waited, listening and watching for what was supposed to come. The glimpse of something, she just wasn’t sure what ( Read more... )

He hadn't exactly promised Hope that he wouldn't. He'd just promised not to break his neck. And he wouldn't, would he? Rollo paced pensively around the roots of the tree, and Ian leant against the trunk, high up, his face turned up to the sun for a minute. He was developing new freckles, he could feel it. Soon he'd be, as his Auntie Claire ( Read more... )

He was sitting cross legged on the sand, whittling at a piece of wood with the edge of his knife. He'd taught himself to do this back when he was married, back with Emily, because he hadn't had much to give her, but it had been nice to bring her little things. So he had made her things. And he was making something for not Hope this time, but ( Read more... )

Qui-Gon had woken appropriately late, the sun already risen and shining through the trees, the day already bright and warm with possibility. Too warm, in fact, and as ever before, the layers of traditional tunics and robes were far too much for the humid heat of this place. Patrol seemed entirely unimportant--there would be nothing but ( Read more... )