Write, Wrote, Written II discussion
Elsabet's Writing
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Just a Random Short Story
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Thanks Rebecca, I'm glad you liked it!


Yeah, I know. Sentence length has always been an issue with me. Thanks for the suggestion, and for the compliment. :)
Love the mystery and slight suspense circling the narrator! And the description is great, I agree!

Thanks! :)
She kneels in her garden, and tears drip off her chin. She digs with her bare hands under an old rowan tree. I've seen her here before.
She never comes out here except when she's crying. Never unless she's so desperate she cannot turn anywhere else. I wish there was an alternative.
I wish she would come when she's not broken, not bleeding. She must be lovely when the bruises fade and her makeup is perfect and her hair is done up elegantly.
But people who are not hurt do not come to me. It is my curse.
She takes from the hole she's dug a little wooden box. From her pocket she takes three items: a key, a piece of aged paper and a large, antique brooch.
She uses the key to open the box, she pokes her finger into it and stirs the contents around with a fingernail. Then she sets the box down and takes up the brooch.
She unhinges the clasp and drives the pin deep into her first finger. I wince. The pin is old. It might be rusty. She might be poisoned. I hope not.
With the blood that wells from her finger she writes her request on the paper and then rolls it up into a tiny scroll and puts it into the box with the others. She's done this four times already.
She locks the box and replaces it under the raised root, and shoves the dirt back into the hole. She sits there for a few more moments before pocketing the key and standing to go back into the house.
Now it's my turn. I will grant her request. I always do.