About The Author
D. R. Prescott has written a novel, a collection of short stories, a nonfiction book, a collection of essays, planetarium show/display scripts, two family histories, technical articles and business plans as well as written for and edited several newsletters.
 
Awards and published work include Writers' Journal, Long Story Short, Taj Mahal Review literary journal, The Orange County Register, Writer's Digest, and Writing.com and four books among other challenges.
 
As a former aerospace executive and planetarium program director, Prescott currently writes and explores life in Orange, California.
 
Picture to match DW in promo
"Sentience can be annoying."-DRP Abt. 1990
*Thumbsup*
 
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Since 2008, Prescott has been a regular contributor of
essays and short stories to
The Taj Mahal Review Literary Journal
Get your copies now at: http://tajmahalreview.com/
 
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Books written. 
 
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O R D E R   T O D A Y !
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Ragnarok
by D. R. Prescott



         “Goodnight, Darlin’.” Nanna’s mother tucked her in and closed the bedroom door.

         For the last week, about the time Nanna got drowsy each night, they’d gradually appear, large men dressed in furs with horned helmets carrying wooden shields and swords. She could have called out for her mother but while they looked fierce, she felt safe with them there. They stood guard silently until she could no longer resist closing her eyes. Each morning, a gift lay on her pillow, first, a small copper statue, then, a fur cloak followed by an axe, a knife, other strange smelling apparel… all oddly familiar. She hid them under her bed away from her mother’s prying eyes. Each day, she checked them. They were indeed real!

         It was the seventh evening before Nanna mustered the courage to talk to them directly. “Who are you?” Her words sounded weird, foreign. How could she speak the old tongue? How did she know it was the old tongue?

         “You are Nanna, wife of Balder.” The larger of the two giants bellowed.

         “Quiet, you’ll wake Mom.” Nanna shivered.

         “She cannot hear us. Make yourself ready for Ragnarok. The end is near. Odin has chosen you. Things have changed.”

         “But, I’m just a kid!” Nanna protested.

         “The spirit of Nanna, wife of Balder, lives in you. You know it.” The warrior sat on her bed. “Make yourself ready. Your destiny awaits.”

         “Oh no!” Nanna cringed as memories of her previous life wrapped her in a shroud of fear punctuated by a rising sense of urgency. Abruptly, she knew who and what she was. Is this why she had always felt different and never seemed to fit in? Is this why her mother always worried about her so much?

         “Valhalla! The dead souls, the Einherjar, will rise. Heimdall will trumpet. Odin’s sons will come. Many will die but a new world will arise, a beautiful world! Yes, I see it. I know.” Nanna jumped off the bed to the floor pulling the Viking gifts from under her bed. She placed them about her neatly on the bed. They were much too large for her small frame but she knew that didn’t matter. They would fit on the other side.

         “Close your eyes. Valhalla will open its doors. Sleep little one. Make ready. Odin waits.” The huge soldier stroked her forehead gently as Nanna stretched and placed her head on her soft, goose down pillow.

         Nanna smiled and closed her eyes. She was ready. She knew. One thing did bother her. She’d never see Mom again. A tear trickled down her cheek onto her pillow before darkness overtook her. “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.” She whispered and drifted off.

***

         The next morning, Nanna’s mother found her dead atop the bed covers clutching a small, copper statue of Odin, the father of the Viking gods. Nanna looked serene. Her mother wept while far off in another dimension Nanna proudly led the final battle. Ragnarok began and the earth shook.


© Copyright 2006 D. R. Prescott (donprescott at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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' Copyright 2008 D. R. Prescott (UN: donprescott at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. D. R. Prescott has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. Questions or Comments? E-mail to prescottdc@sbcglobal.net
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