Jun. 12, 2009
New Blog!
|
The beginning of a now lost story.
Opal pushed her face against the window and her breath fogged the glass. Her reflection was ghostly and pale in the window, and the dimming flame from the candle threw bizarre shadows on the walls. Opal shivered and pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders. Where is he? Opal wondered. Her husband Graey was usually home at this time. The world outside looked like a black oblivion. She heard the hollow wail of the wind against the walls, and she heard crashing waves beating against the rocks. Looking through the window again, she saw a thin beam of light scan the jagged rocks on the shore. Good, Opal thought. At least the light is still working.
Opal then heard her baby crying upstairs. Reluctant to leave her post at the window, Opal climbed the winding stairs to the baby’s room. The baby quieted as Opal entered. She took the baby in her arms and rocked her gently back and forth. The baby soon fell fast asleep again. Opal heard the door bang open downstairs and flew down the staircase as fast as she could and was disappointed to see that only the wind had blown the door open. She closed it again and began to pace across the floor, worrying over what sort of trouble Graey had run into.
|
Comments
