Writer, wife and homeschool mom of three.
She has written short stories published by Cabinet of Heed, Adelaide, and Ariel Chart literary journals.
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The Cliff: Chapter Three
A loud knock startled Lorna awake. “Hm… wonder who’s here.” Grabbing a robe from the bathroom door, she wrapped tight and cracked the front door. The hallway appeared empty. Confused, she went to shut it when something caught her eye. A leather-bound book sat on the floor. Curious, she picked the book up. “Wonder who left this. Why didn’t they wait and hand it to me?” She ran a hand over the family name, Reaves, impressed in the soft black leather. The book vibrated. “What the—”. Startled, the book slipped and hit the floor with a thud. Cautious, she used a foot to scoot the book into the apartment and slammed the door.
The Cliff: Chapter Two
Lorna paced the floor of her small, cozy apartment, stunned, she’d had to leave a voicemail. The phone rested like a brick in her hand. Her heart squeezed tight, and her stomach twisted with knots. She had known he wouldn’t answer. Why would he? He didn’t owe her his time. She wiped the warm, damp from her cool cheek. It was the right thing, walking away to save him. She was a hero, or so she told herself when the pain became unbearable.
The Cliff: Chapter One
He settled on the edge of the cliff as waves struck and curled over the rocks below, creating a fierce rhythm. It vibrated his soul, shaking out places of misery and bringing healing. This was his place. Lorna’s too, the voice in his head informed him. Disgust twisted his face. "No," he said, shaking his head, "not anymore."
His cell phone buzzed on the hotel nightstand. A picture of his wife smiled back at him on the screen. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned it over. The buzzing stopped. He ran his hands through his scruffy dark hair. A woman breathed deeply beside him. She shifted, grabbed the wrinkled white sheet, pulled it over bare skin, and then stilled. Layers of black curls fell from her shoulder. He stood, zipped up his pants, tossed a couple crinkled hundreds on the bed, and walked out the door.