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Other articles in Stories
Canyon 26 February 2009
Bled Dry 18 February 2009
Imperfect Reflections: The Bullfrog 14 February 2009
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| THE SECRET PLACE OF TWO BOYS. |
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| Stories |
| Written by WilliamDuncan |
| Wednesday, 15 April 2009 20:05 |
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A prospector thought he had finally struck it rich. First he found gold just a few feet below the surface of the dirt. The ore was rich and he knew he had hit the mother lode. Staking his claim he purchased the equipment necessary to start digging the hard rock mine. But a few feet in and the gold was gone. In desperation he continued to dig knowing he would again pick up the vein. Finally after a few years his money was gone and so was his health. The man literally worked him self to death looking for the gold.
The mine sat as just a hole in the ground for over one hundred and fifty years. Occasionally through the years some of the local boys would find the mine and take picks and shovels down to try to find the vein but very few ever got more then a few chips in the rock and quit when they found how hard the stone was. None of them ever found any color.
In the depths of that old abandoned mine shaft Peter sat alone, sad, and dejected. The shaft was cold and dark; it was his tomb for now though his heart still beat in what he felt like was an empty shell of his thirteen year old body.
Constantly the questions kept coming over and over in his mind, why did he have to be so dumb? Why could he have not used better judgment? The right thing was so simple why did he do the wrong thing? But now there was no way to reverse what had happened. His friend was gone forever and it was his fault.
Peter and Seth had been friends for as long as either could remember. They were only six days apart in age and had lived their whole life just three houses apart in the small community that had been built for the workers of the hydro-power plant that employed both of their fathers. The two were closer then brothers and where you would find one the other was surely not far away. Neither of them had brothers or sisters and there were only three other children that lived at the power station and none of them was old enough to go to school.
The two had gone up to their favorite swimming hole that Saturday morning. They had no intention of swimming on the cool April day. The water fall on the stream that had formed the best swimming hole any boy could have was now a raging torrent of water as results of the runoff from the melting snow. During the summer the fall would shrink down to just a little better then a large trickle. The water was barely above freezing temperature and the air was not above fifty degrees. No, it was not a day for swimming but it was a day to go and look; a day to remember the fun of the past and look forward to the enjoyment they would have this coming summer.
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