Dr. Constance Quigley
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” -J.R.R. Tolkien
No Advice Given. Constance Quigley, DM-OL, owns all work contained here. The work is fictional and is not based on fact.
Our Christmas Getaway
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The excitement of Airabeth at being able to go on an adventure with Josh was contagious. Truth be told, it had been a while since either of them had been able to get out or adventure. Having the ability to imagine worlds beyond those that are encountered every day had rewarded them. Josh had long praised her ability to tell a story that captivated, amused, and moved others. After finding the challenge, she wrote about how they would spend a holiday if they were able to escape.
The cold. She tasted the sweet and salty remnants of her blood as she licked her bitter, flaking lips. It wasn't the lack of contact with another person that seemed to tear at her so harshly; it was the freezing cold. She never imagined how deeply the cold penetrated her bones. As though she was being licked by flames, her skin was burning. With every ragged breath, it penetrated her entire body, cutting through her flesh.
The sergeant's scavenger hunt
"It was when he was around 25 years old that it happened. James had recently been promoted to the rank of Sergeant in Georgia and was ecstatic about his new role. He was to be returning to Afghanistan for another six-month deployment. James was in the middle of wrapping up his affairs in America that afternoon. He was on top of the world, and in the blink of an eye, everything was taken from him by an older driver who was not paying attention to the road." As she moved around the bed, absently retelling the story that had been told a million times before, she couldn't help but smile. "Because Marion, SC is the closest place I could afford to Atlanta, I moved us here for a new start," she added, "That was ten years ago."
“Front door alert.” The melodic voice calmly announced as Julianna stirred in her bed. Her stark black hair was a bold contrast to the bright white farmhouse comforter set that seemed to envelop her. She lifted her left wrist bringing her smartwatch screen into view. 3:14 am. Julianna snuggled back into the warmth of her blankets, refusing to rise early on a Sunday. She made a mental note that she would need to have Alice serviced on Monday. She would set a reminder when she awoke.