It’s Wednesday and recent photos make me suspect that Rochelle is as much over the winter as I am. This week’s greenery comes from Rachel Bjerke.
My story is an attempt to veer back into ‘proper’ fiction and as always I’d love to hear what you think. I am stuck for a title, so suggestions are welcome on that front too. After writing it, I was researching green for something that might work as a title when I came across this bit of slang. I suggest you read the story before clicking on that link, then you can decide whether it changes your reading of the story or not – it kind of did for me!
Happy Spring (on Friday, apparently)!
Exhausted, she leant against the stone fountain. The surface, polished lifetimes ago, was made smoother still by a slime of moss that covered everything. She knew it was staining her nightdress and skin with the evidence of her flight.
She’d once loved green – the colour of life and vitality, of new beginnings – a longed-for sight after bracing white winters washed away colour and hope.
But today, it was another wall in her prison. She had fled the house, only to find the forest never-ending, and this abandoned oasis further evidence that she was still within his territory. And his grasp.