Here's mine, from the still in progress Ghost Gal novel I'm writing for Raven's Head Press.
Maxamillian Bartlett looked out over the memorial to his father.
Young Max had been born just after the destruction of his father’s castle keep so Max had never seen it as it had been intended. Instead, he only knew the piecemeal section that remained as a memorial that his father’s legacy. The tattered remains overlooked the concrete courtyard where a sculpture made by a mysterious artisan who was never credited sat. Benches had been placed along the perimeter of the courtyard for visitors to enjoy the park. Three flagpoles flew the colors of the United States of America while the flag of the great state of New Hampshire and the Bartlett family crest flew just a bit lower on either side.
Beyond the courtyard were a well-manicured lawn and beyond that several tended gardens where flowers of many different colors added to the areas natural beauty. It was here that Max had played as a child, his family living on a neighboring plot of land, the park was essentially his front yard. It was where he had played ran, learned to ride a bicycle, kissed a girl for the first time, and smoked his first cigarette. Perhaps, he wondered, it was a monument to his life as much as his father’s legacy.
Just weeks shy of his twenty first birthday and Max Bartlett had only recently buried his father, the last of his living relatives in a private plot in the Bartlett family cemetery located in an off limits section of the park. His father had cared greatly for the park and Max believed that he would find comfort in knowing that it served as his final resting place.
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Look for Ghost Gal later in 2014.
Bobby
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