This story begins in the year 1947. World War II had recently come to an end, and the United States, like other countries across the Atlantic, was rebuilding from their lost wealth and population. Many good husbands, fathers and potential lovers lost their lives in a horrific battle for the rights of the free man. Perhaps every action mistakable, the United States was caught up in the middle of all of it. It was believed that you were not a man if you did not fulfill your duties to your country. It was a grim recapitulation of the things "expected" from the young men of the mighty nation.

The United States, along with any other country involved in the war, lost many people. Some, perhaps, lost in a more gruesome state than others. And who could forget the horrible actions revolving around the German Death Camps. Anti-Semitism at its most extreme, and there is no face of any man, woman or child committed to such an ordeal. It is no wonder many people feel some sort of attachment to the war. Opinions, facts, and anti-war movements all trying to create some sort of resolve for the death that many feel 'must be'. Without conflict, you cannot have peace.

The story takes place in the small American town of Riley, Vermont. Many would refer to it as Podunk, but those that lived in Riley knew it was more than just insignificant; Riley was part of the American nation. It was connected with all other small towns in the sense that its population dropped nearly 50% after the war. The young men who went off to war never came back. Banners were left useless. Affection was left untamed. The shop-windows were garnished with appropriate decorations and pictures were placed inside in honor of the lost soldiers.

Riley had trees that swayed in the springtime wind. Riley had leaves which slowly morphed colors in the autumn season. It had hard ground for the wondrous white blanket of winter. It even had ponds to swim in during the hot summer days. Seasons filled with all emotions; people either loved or lonely felt not alone in Riley. But all of that seemed meaningless once there was no love to be enjoyed.

Sometimes a car would drive along the main street of Riley, passing the windows and white picket fences. There were those that had decency to stop and mourn, and others that had decency to worry about those that they had also lost. It was a mighty nation indeed.

However, like many small towns, Riley had its secrets. Some secrets were kept in the shadows, but others refused to be kept quiet. This secret was a love that many might call ‘otherworldly’. It was a love to match that of Romeo and Juliet. It was a love beyond the human ideal of love.








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A love story that may just fit the genre of this forum.