Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Stories (240/0)
The Enchanted Owl
The owl always came at night, when the moon filled the endlessness that floated in on the breeze and rippled through the tall trees. Its feathers nearly completely white except for the streaks of amber brown, it perched on the branch closest to her bedroom window and shrieked its eerie call, beckoning her from the solitude of her bed. Thus each night, Luna rose and walked on bare feet to the open window to search the barn owl’s piercing golden eyes, as if therein lay some deep-seated and powerful omen that would bring her fulfillment of desires for which she did yearn.
By Cindy Calder2 years ago in Fiction
White Roses
Poppy stood in the moonlight, her slender frame shivering at the unexpected cold of the late summer weather. Pulling her shawl a bit more tightly around her shoulders, she stared at the stone cottage before her, hidden from view where she stood behind the massive oak tree, its heavy branches masking her image. Her eyes filled with tears. How she longed to enter the cottage and see the people who resided therein, and how much she missed them. It had been nearly two years since she had seen her family. Still, she knew she could not go inside the cottage. No, she could never return home even though she longed to do so. Despite the fact that things were different for her now, and she had a home and a family who loved her, she could never return to her original homestead. If her mum and siblings knew the truth, for the rest of her life she would wear the shame of what she had done and the shame would carry over to her family. Poppy had done the forbidden: she had had a baby out of wedlock. It was best for her to keep her distance and that her family was none the wiser, no matter how much she missed them.
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Fiction
The Magic Window
Sophie loved to explore unchartered territories whenever she had a day off from school, and today she was making her way through the sparse forest to find places she had yet to discover. Her best friend, Abby, had decided to ditch her in favor of going shopping with her Mom today, but Sophie much preferred trekking through the woods any day to picking out a new outfit in a crowded mall.
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Fiction
Christmas Eve, 1910
The year was 1910, and it was a cold, bitter winter night. Arthur sat before the fire, rocking and smoking his pipe as he listened to the giggles of excitement that issued forth from the next room where eight of his ten children slept. The youngest two, twins, were already asleep in his and his wife’s bedroom. His wife, Anna, was with the other eight children, attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to calm them so that he could begin his annual Santa Claus masquerade. He shook his head at the thought and laughed. Well, she certainly had her work cut out for her. All children grew excited with the joy and anticipation of Christmas Eve, and his were certainly no different. His wife might have to threaten the children within an inch of their lives to achieve such an endeavor.
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Fiction
What's In a Name?
Shelby stood and stretched. It had been a productive day of painting, and she was more than ready for a break. However, before leaving the quaint seaside studio, she took one last glance at her most recent piece of work. Overall, she was pleased with the progression of the painting of enormous, blue hydrangeas that sat upon the table, so she cleaned her brushes and put away the multi-colored paint palette and paints she had used.
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Fiction
Lavender & Merlot
There was a distinct and frosty chill in the late fall evening as Abigail made her way to the small Italian restaurant called La Pasta. The rustic, multi-colored leaves whispered in the breeze, blowing and scattering everywhere as her black heels clicked methodically with each step she took on the narrow sidewalk. Reaching up, she attempted to push back the loose wisps of russet-colored hair that flew about her face, but it was a futile endeavor. This evening, despite her best attempts to tame the thick, lustrous curls, her hair had a mind of its own, and there was no luck at hand with escaping the force of a wind that lent it new life. She mused to herself that she would likely look like Medusa once she arrived at her destination, but alas, it was what it was. Whomever she was meeting on this blind date would need to like her for what she was, including her wild, rebellious, and yes, scary hair. As the wind whipped about her legs, she wished she had had the foresight to take the taxi that she had considered in lieu of making the short walk to the restaurant. Perhaps if she had, she would not have looked like a mythological creature, waiting in the wings for her blind date’s arrival. Well, she hoped this date was made of sterner stuff and could endure the sight of her hair in disarray.
By Cindy Calder3 years ago in Fiction