Friday, September 19, 2014

Home for the Summer, Chapt. 4


All works posted are original stories. As such, they may not be copied or used without author's express permission.

Home for the Summer



Chapter 4

I barely notice the cramps in my fingers as they fly across the keyboard. Never before has writing been as effortless, as seamless as it’s been since Italy. And while the sabbatical was the excuse I’d given him for wanting to relocate for the summer, it is an added bonus that all the pieces are falling into place, as far as the manuscript is concerned.

Home for the Summer, Chapt. 3


All works posted are original stories. As such, they may not be copied or used without author's express permission.

Home for the Summer





Chapter 3

The theatre fills as we take our seats in the private box. Her eyes take everything in as they sweep the cavernous room — the contrast of modern and traditional — from the rich, gleaming wooden balconies and seats covered with their vibrant upholstery to the recessed lighting overhead. Seeing her face so expressive, so receptive, tells me how relaxed and delighted she is, and the tense muscles between my shoulders ease.

Home for the Summer, Chapt. 2


All works posted are original stories. As such, they may not be copied or used without author's express permission.

Home for the Summer


Chapter 2

I come awake slowly, easily; content for the moment to nestle in his arms, his warm stomach pressed into my back and his leg tucked between mine. I open my eyes and watch through the bedroom window the first, weak rays of sun scare away the last edges of night. It is the cool sea breeze that woke me, and I smile as the gauzy curtains flutter like delicate fingers waggling hello.

Home for the Summer, Chapt. 1


All works posted are original stories. As such, they may not be copied or used without author's express permission.

Home for the Summer


Chapter 1


 The breeze has been competing with the humidity all morning and is finally winning. Standing on the balcony, my hips pressed against the black iron railing, I let the cool air tip my head back. With my dress swirling around my ankles, tickling my skin, I breathe in the sweet air, smiling into the breeze. We’re finally here, on Italy’s sunny coast, for the next three months.