Spontaneous Creativity #2

Peering out, she waited. He would come, she said. He would come. Her toes strained against the wide floorboards, her stomach pressed against the sill. Salt air and seagulls kept watch with her. He would come, she said. He would come.

Spontaneous Creativity 2018/#1

In the cool of the day, she waited. Beneath the haint ceiling of the wide front porch, she read. All day she'd counted the hours. Now, she counted the minutes. Her eyes on the book, the words not quite catching, and her ears tuned for the car that would come down the road. (C) Eva Marie Everson, Author #IAmWriting #YourTurn (How would you continue this?)

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