It’s been nearly a year since I last posted a short story on this crazy junkyard site, but that’s not because I ain’t been writin’ ‘em!
The following piece is one of my more recent attempts. It’s based on a writing exercise I did a few weeks back that I think turned out pretty well.
I call it Dead Ringer.
Maria woke in a warm sluggish fog of dreamy half-thoughts. She struggled unsuccessfully to open her anvil-heavy eyelids and take in her surroundings. She felt warm and cosy and could taste the damp, earthy scent of fresh pine.
