Thank you to everyone who visits me every week and to those joining us all this week. Click here-> Sweet Saturday Samples to enjoy many other fabulous excerpts.
This week I'm taking a break for The Brat and sharing the opening of a short paranormal story that so far has failed to find a home.
Snip, snip. Two more dead-heads for the compost. Snip, snip. I sighed with delight at the best display of roses I’d enjoyed, since moving here five years ago.
Since my husband’s death, my garden was my life. I never felt alone when working with my flowers. Indeed, I enjoyed my connection with them, one that transcended the physical; the logical. When I tried explaining to my neighbour, Rachel, she jokingly scoffed at my description as being ‘almost spiritual’.
“Next, you’ll be telling me you have faeries at the bottom of your garden!” We shared her joke with iced tea and laughter, but something deep inside me shifted uneasily.
With one foot, I pushed the swing and watched the sky fade from rose to dusk, and contemplated my earlier sense of unease. Faeries were fantasies of children and story-books. They didn’t exist.
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