Several years ago
I started writing a piece of
young adult fiction.
In fact, it was 2009.
I gave my readers
a snippet to critique.
And then...I wrote a bit more and
abandoned the poor
I have many pieces
of abandoned writing.
Many stories, dreams, characters
...mainly due to this "author's" inability
to get her act together.
So my friends, please read (or perhaps reread if you have stuck with me for 4 years).
Critique away. I NEED motivation from those that read my writing , view my photographs, understand the inner workings of this brain!
I included a photo of the lighthouse,
as it is definitely
She pulled the worn Frisbee back toward her shoulder, taking in a bigger than usual breath of air before releasing the disc fast and straight. The salty air filled her lungs, giving her an indescribable sense of peace. But the angle of the sun and the muted pinkish-purple hue of the sky made her realize that she was going to be late...again.
“Come on Sam, let’s go,” she said, her body suddenly tense from head to toe.
“I promised Dad I would be home before dark. It’s going to be close. Come on, let’s run.”
Sam looked up at Molly with understanding, dropping the punctured Frisbee at her feet. Molly grabbed it, unconsciously wiping the saliva across her cutoff jeans. Molly and Sam ran quickly past the lighthouse, over the wide expanse of green grass, across the gravel filled driveway, and down the clamshell path to the cottage. Daylight seemed to hang by a thread, knowing that a promise was at stake.
As Molly turned the knob to the front door, she heard the crunching sound of tires on the driveway. She closed the door behind her, knowing she had made it…this time.
Molly quickly washed her hands and poured a bowl of cold water for Sam.
“Our secret,” she whispered in his ear, leaving a quick kiss on top of his head.
She opened the door just in time to see her dad stepping down from his red 1970 Chevy pickup. A smile crossed his face as he saw her approaching.
story copyright Monica at Prince Snow Farm