July 8, 2018
Shots fired from behind. He squeezed his thighs and leaned forward, urging his horse to go faster. With coin in his pocket, and a bumbling sherrif left in the dust, he grinned. They could slap his face on as many ‘Wanted’ posters as they liked; they’d never catch him.
July 20, 2018
Ella looked down and swallowed the bile in her throat. One misstep and she was finished.
“Don’t do that,” Sinclair said, one foot on the plank and the other planted firmly on the roof. “Look only at me.”
She put one foot in front of the other and prayed.
July 21, 2018
She clutched the urn to her chest, her weathered ring scraping against the steel. With one last goodbye, she unscrewed the lid and watched the breeze carry his ashes around the world one last time.
July 24, 2018
It was impossible. Ella thought the technology still a few years away. She traced the bolts, eyed the cogs. “How does it feel?”
Cook stretched out his mechanical arm, creating a fist. “Light.” He grinned. “Let’s see how it fairs in my kitchen.”
July 27, 2018
“I’m the big cheese,” you used to say. We’d laugh all night.
“I’m the man. Me, not you,” you now say. I cry all night, flinching at the smallest sound.
August 5, 2018
I lathered jam on a piece of toast and licked a dollop from my finger.
My aunt’s voice cut across the room. I looked up, thumb sliding out of my mouth.
“A lady does not lick food from her fingers.”
“My apologies,” I shoved my hands under the table.
August 7, 2018
Sinclair pulled her flush against him. There would be no escape this time. “I believe you promised me this dance.”
Cheeks heated, Ella straightened and met his gaze. “So I did, M’lord.” He may have won the battle, but she would win the war. She’d never marry.
August 30, 2018
Ella’s heels clicked on the cobblestones, and she pulled her wool shawl tight. The moon fought to light the alley, but open shutters and overloaded clothes lines left it mostly in shadows. She moved deeper into the darkness and disappeared.