When he left her, Emily retreated to the woods in a ramshackle hut without running water or electricity. She hoped the solitude would kill her, or that the lack of sound would at least deafen her. However, it only made her instincts keener and her will stronger.
For sustenance, she hunted the woods and fished the lake. She wrote her manuscript by the light of day, and continued writing by firelight until long after the sun set. The mewling of the coyotes sang her to sleep each night.
Emily thought she had found serenity, but then he reappeared.
Genre: General Fiction
Thank you Rochelle Wisoff Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. I don’t write much anymore but when the stories come, they come quickly and I have to reach out and grab them before they get away.
I’m unsure of the cadence of this story, or if it even makes sense. I take any and all criticism or kudos.