(Just a little story I wrote for Halloween, and for my graduate school writing sample, and never got around to posting. But on the bright side, I’m early for Halloween 2022.)
The kitchen cocooned me in warmth, as the layered scent of flour, nuts, and vanilla swirled around me in a blissful cloud. I trailed my hand along the line of ingredients on the counter, then while my fingers were free of flour or sugar, I skimmed the recipe one more time. With the directions committed to memory, I closed the Braille book and laid it aside.
After a month living with Mac, I couldn’t imagine why the decision to move in with him had been so complex. As it was, I wished for more hours in the day, just to spend them with my fiancé, but moving from my neighborhood in Raleigh with its public transportation and many shops and restaurants within walking distance, to a sprawling home in the country hadn’t been so simple. Had I cautioned myself that I’d be giving up some independence? I couldn’t imagine it now, for I had gained so much more.
Our “Winter Classic Rock” playlist was the perfect soundscape while I sifted and measured – The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Chicago, America, and now The Doors, only Jim Morrison was cut off in the midst of shrieking at the top of his lungs. With the silence, the world grew still. Gazing out the window, what light I could see was murky, and not because of my vision. It was a “gray” day.
A crash shattered the silence!
There was no wind to blow the trash can onto its side, and I couldn’t think what else would be so near the back door.
I stopped stirring and listened. Glob of chocolate cookie dough plopping softly back into the mixing bowl, ducks and geese down by the lake, and . .
Someone was at the back door.
Continue reading “A Stranger At The Door”
Porch Swing Writing 