be a stone. please be a stone.

that was what some rocks said to some feathers, to the dandelion-wishes that floated about minding their own business before coming down slowly to land in some meadow and, after a time, take root. they wanted soft things to harden, for their own good, for their own good. but that left no consideration for the traveler who had to walk barefoot over the terrain, left them no comfortable place to step. and Isaiah wanted to be that for Samuel. 

WRITER
Robert Jones, Jr.
Twitter : @sonofbaldwin
IG : @thesonofbaldwin

NOVEL
The Prophets

PODCAST SOCIAL MEDIA
:: twitter : @harshzaran ::
:: IG : @harshwordspod ::

Paul didn't tell him how disagreeable the land would prove to be, how it would harden him further, that even his voice would change. no one told him that the women here would scoff at him and that, as a result, his beauty—the one thing he could count on across the sea—would fade from disuse. Paul had called him vain and he thought Paul gluttonous. linked by sins, he realized that they were family not merely because the same blood ran through their veins, but because the same blood stained their hands.

WRITER
Robert Jones, Jr.
Twitter : @sonofbaldwin
IG : @thesonofbaldwin

NOVEL
The Prophets

PODCAST SOCIAL MEDIA
:: twitter : @harshzaran ::
:: IG : @harshwordspod ::

Isaiah moved slowly toward Samuel and put an arm around his waist. he pushed against him. Samuel threw an arm around Isaiah's neck. they pressed their faces together. for long moments, they breathed heavily into each other. one of them coughed. the other choked. a sob and its refusal. they rubbed their foreheads together. finally, Isaiah put his hand on Samuel's jaw and they looked each other in the eyes. they kissed. it was neither gentle nor rough, but it was full. something had been exchanged.

WRITER
Robert Jones, Jr.
Twitter : @sonofbaldwin
IG : @thesonofbaldwin

NOVEL
The Prophets

PODCAST SOCIAL MEDIA
:: twitter : @harshzaran ::
:: IG : @harshwordspod ::