My heart seemed to stop, up high in my rib-cage where it had leapt and then frozen. I grasped desperately at the air, as the intricate glass bowl plummeted beyond my reach toward the harsh tiles of the kitchen floor.
The sound rang out like a million tiny bells tolling, calling out into the silent house. ‘She’s leaving,’ they cried, ‘Quick, she’s leaving!’
I didn’t wait. I launched myself towards the cupboard, swapping my rucksack and jacket for the dustpan and brush.
‘Not today’ I whispered to the sparkling fragments, as footsteps approached.
‘Hush now.’
________________________________________________
Dear Anna,
Oh dear. It looks like she might have a delayed escape. Nicely done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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I wonder will she ever escape. Well written.
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You imply a great deal more than you say here. I hope she escapes eventually.
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This is really mysterious! I’d love to hear more of this story. Great last line! x
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Wonderful build of tension and suspense.
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Tense situation delightfully described – I love the tiny bells. Your story reminded me of the Beatles’ “She’s Leaving Home”. I wonder if your protagonist is meeting a man from the motor trade, like the girl in the song though I think she’s probably up to more independent adventures.
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She’s clearly not meant to be leaving! Then again, she might be thrown out if the shattered remains are discovered!
Click to read my FriFic tale
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Love this–leaves so many opportunities to fill in the blanks. Well done.
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