Rolling over me like sun warmed waves on tropical beaches, an enveloping silence wraps around my brain. Protective. I dream of nothing, no thoughts, no sounds. For a while I don't even exist - removed from time and place - in my own internal restorative limbo. The indescribable feeling of being nothing consumes me and … Continue reading Goodnight.
Chapter four The week my father was home passed so quickly I thought I had only imagined that he had been here. My Grandmother had been preoccupied with writing letters and organising my entry into polite society – although a little late for my age (19) she still felt it was necessary and proper, but … Continue reading Continuation of story part two
Chapter three We were met by the Addie –Adeline-, our handmaid at the door, she was a sweet plump woman with curling grey hair and nimble fingers, and she smiled fondly at me and nodded her head with respect for my father as she took his bags through the door. As we walked through the … Continue reading Continuation of story
As I lay there on that cool grass, the sunshine pooling around my bare feet, with a battered book face down on my chest, I closed my eyes and breathed in the honeyed air of the summer and just was. Inhaling the clear watery notes mixed with freshly cut grasses and the comforting scent of … Continue reading An experimental introduction
Although we had many servants, I rarely saw them and on the occasion we happened to meet, I was always met with startled and apologetic mumbles and perhaps unremarkable small talk. As a young girl you can understand that this was not interaction enough. I would dream of meeting other little children, of sharing my … Continue reading Chapter two from my novella continued
My childhood years were spent in a beautiful stately home in the south of England. An imposing stone masterpiece set within the rural moor speckled countryside. The house had several hundred rooms and a gloriously stocked, high-ceiling library. My personal room was situated towards the front of the house. I remember the large sweeping bay … Continue reading Beginning of Chapter two from my unnamed novella
As I stood on the roof I watched as the orange sun sank behind the ruins of London. The shard looked as if it were on fire, the fractured glass reflecting the burning sunset behind it. Ash still fluttered down from a blackened sky onto the empty shell of the city. The London eye now … Continue reading The first lines of my short story: Rise Again
I had always thought the curtains in this room were opulent and graceful; they perfectly matched the rich colours of the dark wine walls-for they had been designed to- they were made from the finest crushed velvet, and hung in rippling waves of extravagance from hand-made golden rails. Now with great effort I turn my … Continue reading Chapter One