The Artist and the Hunter 36 At around three in the afternoon, Victoria decided that it wasn't doing her any good being cooped up in her room. I've got to bite the bullet and buckle down, she thought as she grabbed her sketchbook, threw it in her box of supplies, and took the whole thing downstairs. The sooner I get this mural done, the sooner I can move out of this guilt trap. Not that Victoria hated the Fowls, or never wanted to see Artemis again. But she and Artemis had crossed an employer-employee line the previous night, or at least acknowledged that the line was there, which should never be mentioned aloud. So, after a long night of half-manic contemplating, she resolved to bump her relationship status with the family back to acquaintance. This way, she could easily complete her commission and cut all ties with the Fowl estates as soon as possible.
Inspired byDec 21, 2011inspired by Romans 2:29I've never cried out from a cutMade during circumcision,Nor endured a major surgeryPerformed with great precision.I've never been sad or depressedBecause I've lost a lover,Nor experienced the long absenceOr death of a caring mother.But I feel something's missing,I strongly believe,That one must suffer mortalityTo truly live as a human being.For if one takes no risks,How can they grow?And if one feels no pain,How can they knowAnd empathize with thoseWho have lived well and full?How else can one gain wisdom,without playing the fool?I'm not suggesting self-sabotage,Or suicidal missions,But how, without some sacrifice,Can one be a committed Christian?Without experiencing the mortal world,How can you understand,The troubles of a tattered teen,Or feelings of a foreign man?When Jesus Christ himself enduredAll the trials we've ever encountered;He suffered through the hatred of foes,And betrayal of friends he couldn't count on.
The Artist and the Hunter 35 Wrapped in Butler's dress jacket, Victoria walked through the snow to Main and McPherson, the disastrous party scene playing on a loop in her brain. She tried to think of ways to make things better, to apologize, but the side of her she had let loose in that library room had some opinions on the matter as well. The jerkwad deserved it, it said. Reading your diary? What is he? Twelve? "I was s-s-so cruel," she shivered. "I'm angry, sure. I can never trust him again. In fact, I must beware of him now that he knows all of my--" Our-- "--my secrets. But the truth is, I was being mean for the heck of it; I wanted to see him squirm." Her arms tightened around her ribcage till they ached. "I