Blair danced in the kitchen while she baked. Her favourite songs were playing loudly and she sang along terribly. Her voice could be sweet and melodious when she was concentrating on singing. Right now? She was concentrating on the dough she was kneading and thinking about the icing for the cake already in the oven. Her voice wasn’t quite a cat yowl but it was close. It was terrible enough for the cat to have decided anywhere else was a better place to be, even if it meant giving up fresh egg to eat.
Wiping a sleeve across her brow she set aside the dough in a bowl to rise. The dough would take a few hours before it was ready to go into the oven. She wiped her hands on the apron at her waist and noticed the irregular thumping. She turned off the music and the thumping continued. Following the sound she realised someone was knocking on the door. She wondered how long they’d been knocking as she rushed to open the door.
Continue reading “In Sickness and in Welsh: Chapter 5 – Love Thy Neighbour”
Blair walked back to her cottage. The wind felt like it was biting her skin through the layers she’d put on. As much as she loved living here, the weather didn’t seem to love her. She loved living here so much she wouldn’t consider moving anywhere else. There was something about the land, almost like a magical quality that had seeped into her bones. Along with the cold.
Stepping back through the front door she paused as the wind was cut off as simply as being inside. It hadn’t felt very windy outside but the absence allowed her to feel almost instantly warmer. Blair shrugged out of the oversize purple coat and hung it up. Absentmindedly she undressed while standing by the door until she realised she was unbuttoning her pants. It wasn’t the time and she didn’t feel standing by the glass door was the place either.
The man she had seen on her walk confused her. It wasn’t that she’d never seen a man before but she’d never been so irrationally angry to see someone else on the beach like that. He looked so… happy. Was that really what was bothering her, someone else’s happiness? How petty would she be if it were really his happiness causing her problems. Could it have been that she didn’t expect to see anyone or that he was in her space?
The beach had been her calming place for so long and she rarely saw anyone out there. It made sense that other people used the beach like she did but she didn’t expect to see them. She didn’t expect to want them to disappear. Her thoughts had shocked even her.
“Tea. I need tea,” she muttered to herself as she moved through the room. The windows let the last of the light in as she filled up her kettle.
“I’m going to go meet this neighbour,” she said to herself as she pulled her favourite mug, “and I’m going to be nice. And I’m going to be neighbourly. And I’m going to-” going to what? Her brain had started down a path she didn’t want to think. Couldn’t think.
“He’s just a pretty face,” she turned to the cat who had heard her talking and thought there might be food to receive. “He’s just a pretty face…”
The kettle boiled.
Rhys walked for what felt like hours. He could feel the walk unwinding the long drive inside his muscles. They’d been bound up tightly from the bumpy one lane roads that led to the town. The moving truck didn’t have much by the way of good suspension and that combined with a load of furniture hadn’t helped him at all. Continue reading “In Sickness and in Welsh: Chapter 3 – Near or Far”
Rhys stood back and admired his own handiwork. He’d managed to move all his furniture in without anything more than a few lifts from the postman who’d stopped to ask him questions. One of the best things about living in a small country town was that the people were incredibly curious and didn’t mind asking your whole life history. One of the worst things about living in a small country town was that the people were incredibly curious and didn’t mind asking your whole life history. Continue reading “In Sickness and in Welsh: Chapter 2 – Home”
The words wouldn’t write themselves. It felt like she spent at least 90% of her time staring at a blank page. The other 10% was divided up with household chores, madly writing, and begging her editor for one more day or hour or minute. You’d think that writing short stories for publication would be easy; they’re short! What she found was her brain was second-guessing itself for every other word and their importance to the story. Continue reading “In Sickness and in Welsh: Chapter 1 – New Beginnings”
General housekeeping regard Some Infinities
Mhairi and I will be using this site to post stories. If you are keen to read them out of order then just keep exploring the chapters page. If you would rather follow a particular story then you will need to use the tags. There will be one key tag for each story however, I wouldn’t be surprised if we leave hints and silliness in other tags.
All stories written by Calli will be tagged as Calli.
All stories written by Mhairi will be tagged as Mhairi.