Posted in Posted by J. M. Barrie

    More of my story, which remains to be called Sonata Pathetique until a proper title can be given, once it's finished. If you're curious about Aniquia, it's dead. Dead as Marley, dead as Dr. Robinson, dead as... Richard Cranston... *sad sigh* Just so you know, I've had to re-write the description of Richard Cranston at least five times, so I am very curious as to what my fellow authors think of it. If you have not read the first part of the story, go here: http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/writingforGod/685031

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    The Cranstons had been orphans as long as they could remember. Their father was very ill when Richard was born, and died shortly before the birth of his second child, Judith. Nobody in the town of Oakley really remembered Mrs. Cranston, and the few people who did disliked mentioning her in their discourse, and even if someone asked about her, they would just come to a stop and change the subject. Likewise, Richard and Judith led lives without much knowledge of their parents, and were brought up by their wealthy grandfather.

    To those who did not know him quite well, Mr. Cranston came across as a proud, irascible, and standoffish old man, one who could not possibly keep the young people well, but he was a good man, soft at heart, and generous, giving the young ones every kindness possible. The brother and sister led joyful lives under his roof. The eldest son of his family, Cranston had inherited a large plantation, the largest within miles, fully equipped with slaves and abundant crops and orchards, with which along with his birthright money, he could have not a worry concerning funds.

    Not handsome, though not ugly, Richard Cranston had a plain face with a blunt nose and a quite boring mouth and had brown hair, but his brown eyes were bright, sparkling, charming, normally happy, but sometimes sorrowful, and, though he never told of his pain when he was unwell, one could tell how he suffered by his eyes. Always, the young man made sure he was well dressed and well groomed; his coats and trousers never went soiled nor unmended, his pale face washed and clean-shaven.

     Ever since he was a young boy, Richard had been of poor health, sometimes bedridden for weeks, and at twenty-one years, there was no change in him. Pale and weak, he often had fits of coughing before he actually fell sick, and his younger sister Judith learned this early on, so whenever her brother showed any signs of illness that he would try to ignore, to cast aside as nothing, Judith would tell their grandfather, and soon after, worry herself ill, for she always expected the worst outcome of all, the one that all knew was not too far away from poor Richard.

    And Judith, fair young Judith, was a classic beauty, having soft, curling hair of gold, romantic grey eyes, and a gentle face. Perfectly pale were her complexion, and her hands were long and smooth. As if it were chiseled out of china, her nose was soft and slightly upturned. Sweet and teasing, her mouth was witty, or calmly beautiful, with a smile every woman envied. As for her character, that remains to be found out.

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    Please remember to tell me what you think about Rick's description!

    ~Darcy Jo Jarndice