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"Your mail, Mr. Ford," an overly sugar-coated voice tore him from his thoughts. "Ah. Yes. Put it on my desk," he said, briefly glancing up from the blueprints he'd been studying, only to be met by the sight of the most low-cut blouse he had ever seen on any of his secretaries before, even the one in his Singapore office. "Some tea or coffee?" the secretary asked, twisting a strand of red hair around her finger in a miserably failed attempt at coquetterie. "Coffee would be fine, thank you," he said. He watched her as she moved to the coffee machine in the next room, the shape of her backside overly accentuated by her extremely tight, short

"Simon, son of Jonah - do you love me?" Oh Lord. I can't look at you. It breaks my heart. You know I love you. (I hope you do.) But oh - I'm such a sinner! "Feed my lambs." "Simon, son of Jonah - do you love me?" Oh Lord. Do you doubt me as much as I doubt myself? I said I didn't - you know I never meant it. I love you - but I'm a sinner. "Tend my sheep." "Simon, son of Jonah - do you love me?" Oh Lord. Why must you hurt me so? Have I not torn myself apart asking the exact same thing? Lord, you know all things - you know that I love you, that, even as I said I knew you not, I never stopped loving you. Save me, Lor

The sky is so blue and clear today that somehow my annoyance at Sylvia and Grandmama and my usual anger towards the rich and happy elves gets wiped away from my mind. I forget the mud under my bare feet and the shacks around me melt from my vision. I only look up at the sky and actually feel happy and free, and just want to lie back and stare up at the cloudless blue for hours. But I know why I've sneaked out, and focus back on the road before me, the road to the river, where maybe, maybe, Cirion is waiting for me again. I have hardly entered the city when I hear sounds. I start, for in this city it is not normal to hear shouts and cries an

"An elf smiled at you?" Ophelia stares at me in disbelief. Then she laughs. "Come now, Katty, you must have been imagining stuff! I know you're always dreaming. Go to sleep and stop thinking of smiling elves!" "But he really smiled! I swear it!" I whisper. "He's new at the palace. Maybe he's just an odd one out, but he did smile!" Ophelia grins cheekily. "Yah, and next you'll come home saying you've got a crush on him and want to marry him. I know that feeling, I had it too when I was your age…" "Stop it!" I can't help giggling at such a ridiculous idea, but nevertheless, I hate it when she pretends I'm just the attention-seeking baby

So this is love: to sacrifice myself, my body, my integrity to protect you. So this is love: giving up myself, endangering myself, risking my own neck so you can be safe. I don't deny that this is love: to give, to risk, to sacrifice. Yes, this is love: to look for your best, to want you to be safe. But is this love when it is always me sacrificing, always me giving, always me paying the price, always me losing out in the end? You ask me to lie out of love. You ask me to endanger myself out of love. You ask me to claim I'm your sister to protect you, my husband. And now here I am, in the chambers of a mighty stranger, unfaithful by force,

"Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this." (Esther 4:14b) Why me, God? I'm just a girl, longing to belong - why let me be uprooted, torn from those I love? Why take me to this foreign place where I know no one? Why me, God? I'm just a girl, longing to be loved - why place me in the power of such a cruel man? Why take away my freedom, imprisoned in his hand? Why me, God? I'm just a girl, longing for peace - why this burden on my shoulders? Why this responsibility? Should I pay with my own life to buy my people free? It's me, God - I am a queen placed here by you for just this purpose, for such a time

I would love to be an upstanding citizen, do what the law says. Usually, I do. I would love to submit to authority, obey my rulers. Usually, I do. But I cannot, now. For how can I obey the laws of man if they would have me break the Law of God? Don't you see the death all around you? No - you only see the law. Don't you hear the piercing cries of bereft mothers? No - you only hear the law. Don't you care for the vulnerable trampled underfoot? No - you only care about the law. How can you value something dead above pulsing, screaming life? How can you expect me, a servant of life to obey the rule of death? Sorry. No. I don't care anymore.