and again and again ...

In honor of my last post, here are the beginnings of (some of) the projects that I am working on currently. Respectively, they are my first novel, a short story that is on its first draft, and a short story I am hoping to someday publish.


Through the Woods

As soon as her carriage entered the forest, Caetlyn could feel the thin veil of awareness settling around her body, a feeling of being watched from afar. Words too soft to be heard, bodies too indistinct to be seen among the trees. She vaguely remembered these woods, but not the feeling. Leaning forward, peering into the night, Caetlyn searched out the darkness. She thought she saw a flicker of a cape, but it was just a leaf; a slender arm, but it was just a bare tree branch. Sighing, she leaned back in her rough seat and stared straight ahead.


(Untitled)

Shadows danced along the wooden fence of the backyard, awkward balls of arms and legs, bodies arching into a curve, followed by an explosion of raindrops that resulted in dark stains splattering against the wooden slates before quickly drying in the hot night. Shouts of laughter from young children drifted past the water stains and carried in the desert night air up to the clean stars, shining in a sky that was the undecided blue color of somewhere between night and day.


We Once Believed in Fairy Tales

Abbie made an attempt to descend the bus steps with dignity. She struggled with her huge suitcase and the tote bag that she knew the bus driver had smirked at when she first got on. Lemon scented skin and frosted hair may mark her out as a city girl, but that bright tote read country bumpkin all over it. Not that the driver had any right to judge, not smelling like raw earth as he did. A farmer’s smell. Abbie had worked hard to rid herself of the stench. Even after several months in Newark she had imagined the smell creeping back after the shower, until she asked the advice of a colleague and began using lemon soap. She wished she could banish her current awkwardness just as easily. Stumbling down the last step, she muttered curses at the driver under her breath. He was tearing down the road before she regained her balance. Six years in the city, and the moment she returns to the countryside she’s as gawky and self-conscious as when she left.