This picture, posted in
Authors by Designs (AbD), was a Picture of the Month. All members are welcome
to respond and enjoy the responses of others. ABD is where my online critique
group, The Pen, posts and critiques our stories. Below shows how this picture
inspired me to venture outside my comfort zone and write in a genre foreign to the
writer in me.
~
Andrew
tightened his grip as Sara squirmed against his arm. He leaned them back, resting
them snug against the huge oak tree. Too late he reached for her hand intending
to caress it and ask what troubled her.
Sara moved
fast, avoiding his grasp, dusting crumbs from their spotless blanket. She
wanted to explain, nodding when words eluded her, and clamped her lips tight. Knowing
it would be the last time if she left, she took a long look at the man she
loved. He would be her husband in seven days if she stayed, the father of her earthly
children.
The choice
was hers they said. She knew better.
Without a
backward glance, she stood and headed toward the spiral stairs. Through
misty-wet vines woven into the staircase, she raised one foot then another,
climbing, expecting the stairs to crumble behind her. She gained knowledge as
each step fell away. Worlds shimmered and spun round her, guiding her, ascending
the spiral, easing the climb. To where? There.
She was
there. So was he. Waiting, one arm extended, beckoning her until he could reach
out and gather her close. His name was Nineteen. She was Twenty. There to take
his place. Not as a wife. She would be the last leader taken up to the new
world. To protect them but never again be one of them. And the clock said it
was time.
4 comments:
Oooh. Interesting and intriguing! I want to read more. Thanks for this!
This is like one spoonful of a banana split. I want more!
Wow. That was beautiful. Definitely want to read more!
That was great! I too want to read more!
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