Happy Saturday! We hope you’re enjoying some nice summer weather, wherever you’re reading this. We have one story for you this week, which we hope you’ll enjoy!
This week’s prompt was:
A story using the words “thunderous,” “solemn” and “strings” (Prompt courtesy of @writingprompts)
Karen Blakely has a follow-up piece to her story of last week, again featuring the heroine of her upcoming novella, Red.
I’d been working on Grandmother’s cottage in the woods for months now, ever since I’d stumbled on it. That’s where I spent most of my days off.
I hadn’t planned to come today, not with the storm coming in. I remembered all too well the first time I’d been here – how the rain came into the bedroom, feeding the moss, further decaying all the organic materials in the room.
I’d planned to stay home where it was warm and dry, but I’d been restless and edgy. I’d finally tired of looking around my living room. It was boring. Sterile. It looked more like a hotel room than the home of a grown woman who’d lived there for nearly five years. Seeing how little I’d done in that space to make it homey like Mom or Grandmother would have made my skin feel too tight.
How could I not have noticed it before? Mom had always accused me of willful blindness. I hadn’t understood what she’d meant by that before, but now, looking around my apartment, I finally got it. I hadn’t wanted to make this look like a home. I was still too resentful of losing Mom, and having to sell our house and most of our possessions to pay her medical bills.
And recognizing that made me feel worse.
That’s what drove me out into the thunderstorm, driving my four-wheel drive SUV deep into the woods, sometimes not sure if I would get stuck in the muddy ruts of the forest service road. But I made it within a couple miles of Grandmother’s house, and hiked the rest of the way.