parts of a short story-in-progress . . .
Red coals glow among gray ashes in the fireplace. A log tumbles and sparks flame into an orange blaze. Suddenly the room is filled with a warm, tranquil atmosphere. I don’t feel warm or calm, right now. But I realize why I came back to San Saba. I came to end something . . . so that I can begin my life anew. Without Whit.
From this day forward . . . without you, Whit Langley, I promise–I’ll get by.
© Copyright, 2013 Freeda Baker Nichols
(from my short story or novelette)
(Images are from Wikipedia , through Zemanta)