She loved the way the fresh snow poofed with every step she took. It made her think of icing sugar.
“It would be a great opportunity, a fresh start.” I monitored her response closely. “For both of us.”
Sharp Blades (work in progress)
Walking to work, Jill decided if she were smart, she’d figure out how to bottle this glorious New England fall morning. Sparkling, crisp, cold air.
Nate inhaled the fresh air, tasting both mold and sulfur, and blinked. Nothing primed his headaches like the smells of ruin and decay.
When Next We Meet (work in progress)
“Your mama teach you to talk that way?” If his daughter ever swore like… the pang was more the ache of an old wound now, rather than that of a fresh slice.
I switched to an Enya CD and opened the car window, breathing in the crisp, autumn air as I hummed along to the hauntingly beautiful lyrics.