Previous: Cold, Quintessential Comfort
Holly hopped off the back of the wagon and dusted off her hands. “Right, then.” She peered out into the nighttime gloom, looking for the runaway horses or Tum, but she didn’t see either.
“Could we hurry this up?” Hawthorn said as he pulled off his necromancer’s robe and dropped it on the ground. “There’s a chill out, and I’m not dressed for cold weather.”
Holly eyed him. “Well, you could start with keeping your robe on if you’re so cold.”
Previous: Shadowed Dreams
Hazel awoke on the stone floor of the dark cavern near the bank of the pond. Her head ached, and she rubbed it as she sat up and looked around. Ash stood nearby, watching her.
“What happened?” she said. “How did I get here?”
“You went into the pool, remained there for some minutes, then left and lay down there. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Where did I go? What was that place? How…” Her aching head increased to a steady pounding. She took a breath and tried to relax. “How did I get back?”
Ash considered her a moment. “You never left.”
Posted by Sara C. Snider on Feb 7, 2017 in Writing | 4 comments
I keep saying how I don’t write to music. But I’m starting to realize that’s not entirely true. It’s true in the sense that I prefer quiet when I’ve got my hands on the keyboard… most of the time. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that music plays a big part in my creative world.
Music for Walking
I’ve mentioned before that I go out walking almost every day for about an hour. I do it in part for the exercise, and in part to process the story-happenings in my mind. It’ll sometimes help me untangle problems, come up with new ideas, and review the day’s work as a means of mentally winding down. And for most of these walks, I’ll be listening to music.
Previous: Shadowed Depths, Part Two
Holly tried to keep her breathing even and calm as she lay in the enclosed box. She wouldn’t panic. If she panicked, she might suffocate, and Holly would rather that didn’t happen. She clenched her eyes shut, bracing herself against the jostling of the box to keep her head from getting any more lumps. Breathe in, breathe out. Nice and even; nice and slow.
Her thoughts turned to Hazel. Would she ever see her sister again? A lump formed in her throat that, in the close air, threatened to choke her, so Holly tried to put the thoughts out of her mind.
Previous: Shadowed Depths, Part One
The water surrounded Hazel, cool and and comforting like a chilled feather-down blanket. The shadowed forest stretched down around her from a watery sky, though they remained translucent. Impermanent, like coiling mist.
Hazels booted feet scraped along the stony bottom of the pool as she walked through the water. Then her body became weightless as the floor fell out from under her, and the trees melted into the shadows of the pool. All became black; Hazel lost all sense of direction. Before she had time to orient herself, or to panic, her head broke the water’s surface, and she took in a deep, steadying breath.