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Contemporary Fiction Drama

Gabriel's horn (also called Torricelli's trumpet) is a particular geometric figure that has infinite surface area but finite volume. The term ‘Gabriel’s Horn’ refers to the belief that Gabriel will blow a horn as a call to judgment.

**************

Ruth Rendon looked around the room, amusement apparent on her face. Grandpa Gabriel Rendon’s will had just been read, and the shocked faces around the table bore testament to the odd contents of the will. Gabriel Rendon’s $131 million estate would be liquidated and given to various charities. His three kids were all to leave his house and fend for themselves, but each was to receive a ‘parting gift,’ as he put it. The parting gifts all had a catch, though, and this is where the will became weird.

“We may as well begin with you, Alex. Let’s see…” Harold Winthrop shuffled through some papers, peering at each one intently until he found what he was looking for.

“Ah. Here we go,” Winthrop pushed his glasses further up on his nose and began reading. “My dear Alex. You were always late, even when you were born. You treated time as if it were infinite. You squandered your opportunities and wasted your talents. So, I bequeath you this ormolu clock. Let it be a reminder that time is precious.”

Winthrop left the room and returned a few seconds later with the clock.

“It’s been valued at $300 by three independent appraisers,” Winthrop stated, setting the gilded bronze clock in front of Alex.

Alex looked at it with distaste. It was gaudy and ugly and reeked of neglect. Belinda, his wife, made a moue and frowned at the object. Both sat back in their chairs after a few seconds, disappointed and angry.

“Thanks, dad,” Alex muttered.

“We can contest this, right? I mean…” Belinda left the sentence unfinished.

Winthrop cleared his throat before speaking. He gave each couple a stern look as he spoke.

“You may, but it will do you no good. This will is airtight. I made it myself,” he said. A soupçon of pride echoed through his words.

Winthrop then shuffled through some more papers before beginning again. His eyes focused on the paper in front of him and he read the words carefully before speaking.

“Cynthia, you’re next. Let’s see…My dear Cynthia. You have always read me wrong. In truth, you have read everything and everyone wrong, including that dolt Robert…”

“Hey!” Robert said, jumping up and then sitting back down immediately when Winthrop glared at him.

“…including that dolt Robert. Why you had to get knocked up in your first semester of college is beyond me. However, you gave me a wonderful grandchild, and I thank you for that. Sweet little Ruthie has given me more pleasure than all of my kids combined. So, I bequeath you a box of books. Mixed genres. Perhaps you can read them and take their lessons to heart so that you may someday learn to see things as they are.”

Winthrop left once again and returned with a heavy box. He sat the box down in front of Robert and walked back to his seat, puffing gently from the exertion. He shuffled through some more papers before addressing the couple again.

Cynthia and Robert stared at the box but didn’t open it. They would never open it.

“There’s a Mrs. Mickenham in Germany that will pay $300 for the books. The estate will pay the shipping costs if you care to sell to her. Well, that takes care of that,” Winthrop wiped his glasses and shuffled through more papers until he found what he was looking for.

 “Your turn, Mickey. Yes, I have it right here,” Winthrop said. He took out the piece of paper and looked it over carefully before reading it aloud. A slight smile came to his face.

“My dear Michael. You have an amazing ability to draw the wrong conclusions. You assumed that you could drive home drunk and not get caught, but you did get caught. You assumed you could cheat your way through college, but you couldn’t. You assumed that I would support you for the rest of your life, but I won’t. Because of this, I bequeath you a drawing. You should study it carefully and learn that drawing is a skill that takes time and effort to master.”

Winthrop repeated his recent actions and brought in Michael’s gift. A drawing of a ballerina was ensconced in a thick, heavy oak frame. Michael picked it up and stared at it before tossing it back down on the table. The clatter of the heavy wood on the tabletop was deep and grating.

“Valued at…hmmm…yes, the frame is valued at $325. The drawing, I’m afraid, has not been appraised,” Winthrop said before returning to his seat.

“Fuck me. Hell, the picture isn’t even any good. I bet the old man drew it. What is that, chalk? The fucking frame is so fucking thick…”

“Yes, well. I believe that we should move on. One more bequest,” Winthrop smiled at Ruth before he began reading.

“My dear Ruthie. You are my favorite person in this world, and my most treasured friend. Because of how I feel about you, I leave you nothing. Nothing at all. I’m sure everyone there will wonder why, but I suspect that you know why. Feel free to share the reason. Or not.”

Everyone except Winthrop stared at Ruth. They had expectant looks on their faces, and her uncles and aunts were actually gloating over the contents of the letter. Since none of them liked Ruth, they were happy to see that the old man stiffed her.

Ruth, though, smiled and held out her hand for the letter. She read it three times, nodding and laughing quietly. After a couple of minutes, she carefully folded the letter and stuck it in her purse. She looked up and noted that everyone was still staring at her.

“What?” The smile on her face certainly confused her aunts, uncles, and parents. Winthrop seemed unaffected by it all, busying himself with finding yet another piece of paper to read.

“Why are you so happy about this, dear? I mean…” Cynthia spoke.

“Can I smoke?” Ruth directed her question to Winthrop.

“Er…we have a strict no-smoking policy here. However,” Winthrop pointed behind Ruth, “we have a window and a portable fan.”

Ruth gazed at Winthrop, cocking her head slightly to the right.

“I…er…like a quiet and contemplative cigar on occasion,” Winthrop offered.

Ruth threw open the window and turned on the small fan. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out quickly, sighing in contentment. She would like a drink as well, but she didn’t push it. Winthrop, she was sure, would supply her with a stiff shot of something expensive and smooth, but then everyone would want one.

“Grandpa Gabriel wants me to stand on my own two feet and not to be sucking off of the family tit,” Ruth turned to the group before she spoke.

“Language!” Cynthia said in a strident voice.

“Yes, mother. Language. Forthright English.”

“Humph!” Cynthia said. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in a sulk. As far as she was concerned, this day was a disaster. She was not alone in this sentiment.

“We er…we have codicils. Options for all of you, if you will. Here, let’s see, the same for all of you…ok,” Winthrop cleared his throat and read the codicil to himself. He put the paper down and stood up to address all assembled.

“The codicil states, in simple terms, that if you hand over your bequest to Ruth then you will receive a check for your parting gift’s appraised value from the estate.”

The clamoring started immediately and the volume increased with each passing comment. Ruth stood by the window and smoked another cigarette, wishing that they would all just shut up, but it would be rude to tell them to shut up.

“Shut up!” Ruth yelled.

The clamoring stopped. Ruth continued to stare out of the window, smoking her cigarette and thinking her own thoughts. Mostly, she was missing her grandfather.

“I have another letter to be read to the people involved. It states…”

“Another fucking letter,” Michael muttered.

“Shush!”

“Let him read it so we can get this over with, for God’s sake.”

Winthrop peered over the top of his glasses until the room quieted.

“You may be wondering about this, so I will explain it, though I feel no obligation to do so. My children have all prided themselves on, as they say, thinking outside of the box. That’s bullshit, don’t you agree? You care about externals. Appearances. You have all built façades but have never delved inside. My dear Ruthie believes in exploring the inside of the box. She wants to understand the contents of the box, so she will treasure the drawing that I know Michael won’t like, she will read the books that Cynthia will never read, and she will tinker with the broken clock that Alex is surely looking at with disdain. You will all appreciate the money much more than you would ever appreciate something that came from my heart.”

Everyone was silent, including Ruth, but it was only Ruth that found tears in her eyes. She sniffled a little and wiped away her tears. Winthrop poured out a small measure of brandy in a crystal glass and handed it to Ruth. She smiled gratefully and swallowed it in one gulp. The others were not offered a drink.

“Yeah, ok. Give me the money. Here,” Michael set the drawing by Ruth, “take this damned thing.”

The others followed suit. Ruth was now the possessor of the parting gifts and the others had a little money. Papers were signed, checks were handed out, and the office emptied out quickly. Ruth remained behind, not wanting to mingle with the others as they left. They would be saying ugly things about Grandpa Gabriel and she didn’t want to hear it.

Ruth and Winthrop sat down and had a drink together, neither speaking for several minutes. Winthrop lit a cigar and blew the smoke towards the window.

“So. Ruth. What do you make of it all? I have to admit that I can’t fathom your grandfather’s motives here. The parting gifts are all…”

“Trash?” Ruth laughed. “No, they all mean something. Grandpa Gabriel had his fun, though. Savaged his kids. I loved it.”

“Yes, he was pretty severe.” Winthrop doused his cigar and disposed of it in the restroom. Ruth got up to leave.

Winthrop had a couple of his clerks help her with the clock and the box of books. With a wave and a promise to keep her updated on the liquidation of the estate, the lawyer and the granddaughter parted.

**************

Harold Winthrop was puzzled, and a little concerned. Ruth Rendon had called him out of the blue, three years after the reading of her grandfather’s will. Needed to discuss something with him, she said. And she needed an address. Winthrop, being Winthrop, thought ominous thoughts.

He arrived at Ruth’s apartment that afternoon, looking around and grimacing slightly. Ruth, the college professor and an author of modest renown, was still living in a place that he considered beneath her, and in a neighborhood better suited to the lower classes. Winthrop knew that he was a snob and he didn’t care; as far as he was concerned, his elitism was nothing more than the acknowledgement of reality.

Ruth’s apartment was small and dingy, cluttered and clean. The only exception to this were the ashtrays festooned with cigarette butts. Ruth offered Winthrop a drink but he declined; if her taste in liquor was anything like her living quarters, it would be cheap and rough.

“I know, I know! But I just bought a house, Harold. My last book is doing well and, well, it’s time,” Ruth sat down and lit a cigarette. She offered one to Winthrop, who declined with a shudder. He did not care for tobacco wrapped in paper.

“I’m gonna miss this old place,” Ruth said. Winthrop wondered why.

“Do you require advice on movers, or…” Winthrop hesitated, not knowing what to say. Ruth was perfectly capable of doing things like this. Unlike her family, she just dove in and got the job done.

Ruth scoffed gently.

“Hell no. I have undergrads for that sort of thing,” she said. It was true. As an English professor of some renown and a reputation for being strict, the sycophants would come crawling out of the woodwork to help her.

“Then…” Winthrop prompted Ruth, for he had no idea where this was going.

“The thing is, I want to sell the books that Grandpa Gabriel left for my mom. To that woman. Mickenham, I think.”

Winthrop lit a cigar and stood by the kitchen window, blowing the heavy blue smoke out. The breeze caught it, whisking it away to parts unknown. Ruth sat down and waited for the lawyer to address her.

“It’s none of my business of course, but I wonder if you would satisfy my curiosity. The books are not worth that much, Ruth. Why not just take them to a bookstore and sell them?”

Ruth smiled a smile that Winthrop, not being a student of the subtleties of human nature, took as a sign that she was a little sad at letting go of her mother’s stuff but she felt she needed to do so if she were to completely divorce herself from her parents’ toxicity. But that wasn’t it. The smile was because Ruth had a secret that delighted her, a secret that, if known by her family, would guarantee a cataclysmic response from them.

“I like the woman, though I know nothing about her. She obviously likes books, so I figure that she’d appreciate these particular books, especially since she lives on a teacher’s salary and is willing to lay out $300 for them.”

Winthrop nodded, not completely convinced that Ruth was telling him the entire truth of the matter. He moved to the sofa and accepted a glass of water. He regretted this almost immediately when he heard the tap running in the kitchen. As a man of some taste and discretion, he considered tap water good for washing dishes, bodies, and clothes but not for drinking.

“I must ask. Will you do anything with the broken clock? Perhaps sell it to some itinerant clockmaker? And will you sell the God-awful drawing to some rich widow who wouldn’t know art if it hit her in the face? I just don’t understand this sudden need to get rid of the items that meant so much to your grandfather.”

Ruth stared out of the window for a few seconds before speaking, wiping away a few tears.

“My grandpa and I spent a finite amount of time together, but he imparted some infinite wisdom to me. To his kids, too, but they didn’t listen. Part of that wisdom were the gifts that he knew I would get, his kids’ actions being predictable that day you read out the will.”

Ruth turned to Winthrop and looked at him intently, almost like she were inspecting a butterfly pinned to a board behind a glass display.

“The gifts were genius, and it took me three years to figure this out.”

It was Winthrop’s turn to stare at Ruth with an intensity that he didn’t know he had.

“Well…er…I don’t think I understand, Ruthie.”

“It’s ok. I was meant to understand. Just me. I just need the woman’s address.”

Winthrop complied and left quickly after the information was given. He felt unsettled and unsure of what had just happened. He would never understand the old man or his granddaughter.

**************

An English teacher in Stuttgart, Germany just had a stroke of luck. She had bought a box of books from an American English professor, only to discover some signed first-edition novels by Edgar Allen Poe, Flannery O’Conner, and Mark Twain. The signed copies sold at auction for $3 million, making Twilla Mickenham an instant millionaire. She offered to split the proceeds with the American professor, but the American, defying everything we know about Americans, declined the offer. Miss Mickenham stated that she will now take a long vacation and start writing the novel she always wanted to write…

**************

Mr. Jerome Januk, a jeweler and watchmaker from San Antonio, Texas, discovered a 23-carat diamond inside an old ormolu clock he had bought from a woman for $300. The diamond, valued at $3 million, was sold to the De Beers Corporation and is currently being displayed at their headquarters in Belgium. Mr. Januk didn’t know the woman who sold him the clock, stating only that the woman claimed that the clock had been her grandfather’s clock and that he would want someone who appreciated it to have it. Mr. Januk has since retired and is traveling the world with his wife…

**************

Ruth hung the drawing in her bedroom, complete with lighting and a proper frame. She read the artist’s name, tracing out the letters in her mind. D-e-g-a-s. The signature had been hidden by the ugly, thick frame it had been encased in.

The ballerina stared back at her, cool and impassive and…something else was there. Iron in her eyes. Yes, iron. A sweet and determined willingness to dance like a goddess for the rest of her life. Ruth giggled and then went to her study to grade some essays. Like a goddess.


November 25, 2022 12:10

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32 comments

05:49 Dec 01, 2022

Interesting story Delbert. As soon as you mentioned 'ballerina,' I did wonder about Degas... and... Ruth's attitude towards the riches was somewhat mystifying, though perfectly reasonable, given that it was a response to a) the dealings she'd had with her grandfather, and b) her own nature. But we never got to see firsthand any of the dealings she had with her grandfather, and whilst we did get to see what she was like, we never really got to see much why she was like that. So many questions! But that's okay. Sometimes it's okay to have...

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Delbert Griffith
09:28 Dec 01, 2022

Thanks so much for the kind words, Newton. I appreciate it. Yes, I was up against the word limit and the time limit, so I left the ending a little open. I think the story would work better at the 7k-10k range. Still, it was a fun write.

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06:31 Dec 02, 2022

All good. By the way, my first name is Marcus, and my surname is Newton-Howes. You're welcome to call me Marcus. :-)

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23:26 Dec 06, 2022

I found this story very engaging. It kept my interest all the way through. I think most prevailing here are the themes of temporary and everlasting. Physical wealth being ephemeral and spiritual or perhaps sentimental wealth being infinite. I do wonder though, what obligation a teacher has to his students. If most of them flunk is it the student or the teacher who didn't do their jobs? There is also the age-old pattern of wealthy and/or great men having rotten kids. As though it's borderline impossible for these men to pass along said greatn...

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Delbert Griffith
01:14 Dec 07, 2022

Thanks so much for the kind words and the nice review, Terry. I really appreciate it. As a former teacher, I believe that the teacher is to blame if most of the kids fail. Not many teachers believe that, though, so there's that. I really liked your insights into my story. Very astute.

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Michał Przywara
21:38 Dec 02, 2022

There's a great mystery here. First, there's something about vengeful will readings that's just fascinating. It's someone getting the posthumous last word, which stings - but also, they're dead, so they're not around to enjoy it. There's a bitter sense of (in) justice to it. In this case, it leans on the justice side, since it sounds like the kids had a miserable relationship with their father. But then we get to the first true strange bit: Ruthie gets nothing. Except, of course, grandfather predicted what his kids would do, and so she n...

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Delbert Griffith
22:53 Dec 02, 2022

As per, you hit all of the themes, motifs, and symbols I was aiming for. Ruth certainly did like her life and the challenges therein; that's what made it worthwhile to her. The aunts, uncles, and parents had been crippled by their future expectations and Ruth wanted none of that. She gives most of her riches away to people who appreciate the gifts - in this case, the books and the clock. That these things made their new owners rich was by design, but it also let Ruth off the hook; these new millionaires could go the path of her aunts, uncle...

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Delbert Griffith
22:53 Dec 02, 2022

As per, you hit all of the themes, motifs, and symbols I was aiming for. Ruth certainly did like her life and the challenges therein; that's what made it worthwhile to her. The aunts, uncles, and parents had been crippled by their future expectations and Ruth wanted none of that. She gives most of her riches away to people who appreciate the gifts - in this case, the books and the clock. That these things made their new owners rich was by design, but it also let Ruth off the hook; these new millionaires could go the path of her aunts, uncle...

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Laurel Hanson
18:17 Dec 01, 2022

Great story that folds the underlying meaning neatly into plot and characterization rather than just bludgeoning the reader over the head with it. An engaging read.

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Delbert Griffith
18:51 Dec 01, 2022

Thank you very much, Laurel. I appreciate the kind words and the nice review. Cheers!

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Joey Ratajczak
01:49 Dec 01, 2022

Hey Delbert, I loved the voice of this whole piece! It was a beautiful story-- well-crafted and creative, but I found your writing voice very enthralling. It gave me a similar feeling to watching "Clue" or "Knives Out" It was sophisticated while not crossing into pretentious and filled with personality. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of your work!

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Delbert Griffith
02:14 Dec 01, 2022

Wow, thanks so much, Joey. I really appreciate the kind words and the nice review. The story was difficult to write at first, and then it kind of wrote itself at the end. Weird, right? Sometimes it works that way for me - not enough times, though. LOL Again, thank you very much for the review. It means a lot to me when someone enjoys one of my stories.

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Mary Lehnert
19:29 Nov 29, 2022

Very good, Delbert. The art market being so volatile, same for old books. Diamonds sound like the best bet for Ruthie. Maybe she also could be missing a few innuendos . Love your stories

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Delbert Griffith
00:57 Nov 30, 2022

Thanks so much, Mary. I'm always thrilled when someone actually likes my writing; it seems surreal, somehow. I appreciate the review a lot! Cheers.

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Mary Lehnert
01:26 Nov 30, 2022

Absolutely understand this. Reedsy is quite addictive. Besides the opportunity to have our art recognized, it’s the intellectual connection. That’s a great story in itself.

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Edward Latham
15:42 Nov 28, 2022

This was a mystery story with a great hook! When he left Ruth nothing you knew that there was going to be a grand plan behind it all so I had to keep reading to find out what it was. I love this kind of story, hoping to have a go at them myself soon!

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Delbert Griffith
16:00 Nov 28, 2022

Thanks so much for the kind words and the nice review, Edward. I really appreciate this. Yes, have a go. Have several goes. They are fun writes, and I look forward to reading some of them. Cheers!

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Lily Finch
17:40 Nov 27, 2022

So true that kids expect something for nothing from someone that they didn't have the time of day for when he was alive. And just like the man that he was he set them up with hidden secrets inside what he left to them. None of them appreciated or knew him well enough to understand the meaning of his gifts. Too bad for them - they lost out. Ruth is the winner. She knew. I enjoyed the twist of this story and especially the character of Ruth. Well done Delbert. LF6

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Delbert Griffith
19:13 Nov 27, 2022

Thanks so much for the kind review and the nice analysis. It means a lot to me, as always, when it comes from LF6. Ruth is worth rooting for, don't you think? I love the spirited underdog. Again, thank you. The review is appreciated.

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Tommy Goround
17:20 Nov 27, 2022

Nice unraveling. You kept me wondering. I thought the painting might be by DaVinci. It all worked well, for me.

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Delbert Griffith
19:10 Nov 27, 2022

I'm a Degas fan. Those little ballerinas are made of steel, the way he sketches them. Pretty amazing. Thanks for the kind review, Tommy. To try and entertain a reader with the written word is a daunting and foolhardy task. You do it better than most, my friend. Cheers!

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Wendy Kaminski
14:47 Nov 25, 2022

A thumbs-up and an upturned cardioid graph, on this one! The ending was karmic justice, and I think it could be a delightful longer project (outside of the Reedsy limits) if you ever wanted to flesh out the beginnings of this complete dysfunction. The characters were interesting and I'd love to know more about them, especially of course Ruthie and Grandpa. :)

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Delbert Griffith
15:33 Nov 25, 2022

Thanks so much for the nice review and the kind words. I am quite pleased that you liked the story, and that you found Ruth and grandpa interesting. I haven't given your idea any thought at all until you brought it up here. The idea is intriguing, especially grandpa's backstory and Ruth's upbringing. It might be interesting to explore why the kids are who they are, given that grandpa could be such a colorful character. Karmic justice stories are fun to write because they happen so rarely in real life, so writing this out was pleasurable....

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Delbert Griffith
15:34 Nov 25, 2022

BTW, you sound like a math teacher with the 'cardioid graph' reference. Well done!

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Wendy Kaminski
15:36 Nov 25, 2022

My pleasure! In my line of work (Guardianship for seniors with dementia), we see so much of that exact scenario -- entitled adult children at extreme odds with wealthy, colorful, likely difficult parents -- and there is always a good story behind it. You've written the fallout precisely.

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Delbert Griffith
15:46 Nov 25, 2022

I hate hate hate that this sort of thing happens, and I'm certain that you hate it even more, having to see it all unfold. The story I wrote just before this one, "A Reasonable Facsimile of Life," has a character named Ina in it. I wrote her character as a representation of how American society treats and views elderly people - especially poor ones. I respect the work you do, and I have no doubt that you treat your patients (for lack of a better word) with compassion and dignity. Consider me a fan, Wendy.

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Wendy Kaminski
15:49 Nov 25, 2022

That story touched me very deeply, for that reason I think -- I really felt it. Again, you write this like you know it. It's only getting worse as seniors on fixed incomes start losing their homes due to inflation. But I am crapping up your lovely story with a messageboard about me, so perhaps we should delete these extras and just let the first couple stand? :)

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Wendy Kaminski
15:50 Nov 25, 2022

(We're court-appointed, so it's "wards" or "protected persons" in case you ever need it for a story. :)

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Delbert Griffith
16:03 Nov 25, 2022

No, let the comments stand. They're wonderful to hear, especially from a person with inside knowledge. 'Wards.' I'll remember that. Thanks! I will say that if you want to delete anything here, feel free to do so. I would never have you feel uncomfortable. Your comments are great, though.

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Ela Mikh
14:17 Nov 25, 2022

Love this story. I had a feeling something like that was coming - gifts certainly had underlying meaning behind them but it's so well written and I could just see the characters come to life. I think this is my favorite so far :)

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Delbert Griffith
14:30 Nov 25, 2022

Thank you so much for the nice review, Ela. I absolutely love Ruth, and I kind of love/despise Winthrop. The grandfather is someone I'd like to explore further. Thank you for saying that it's well written. Your opinion means a lot to me, and I respect your judgment. I've been working on characterization, so I'm happy that you like the characters. I'll keep on working on that.

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