Fictional Favourites: Maven Calore
Understanding Maven doesn't mean forgiving him.
Understanding Maven doesn't mean forgiving him.
This day will never leave me, a memento I'll carry forever.
It was just like any other Tuesday. I was six years old.
This day will never leave me, a memento I'll carry forever.
It was the worst decision we all agreed to.
Everything seemed unfamiliar.
It was just like any other Tuesday. I was six years old.
It played a sound I found unique to my grandparents’ home. A sound I didn’t yet understand.
I’m so confused, I can’t think straight; thoughts are swirling around my brain.
Something inside me shifted. It wasn’t loud or sudden. It felt real.
Things were said that shouldn’t have been said.
The man behind the table didn’t say much at first. He just watched us.
Understanding Maven doesn't mean forgiving him.
This day will never leave me, a memento I'll carry forever.
It was just like any other Tuesday. I was six years old.
Something inside me shifted. It wasn’t loud or sudden. It felt real.
It played a sound I found unique to my grandparents’ home. A sound I didn’t yet understand.
It was the worst decision we all agreed to.
Everything seemed unfamiliar.
Three feet from my face lay the last thing I would have ever imagined.
Knowing our history, they were understandably hesitant to trust us.