This
is the fourth entry out of the thirty I'm attempting. It is part of a
series of thirty entries so I hope you'll read each daily post to find
out what happens in the end.
Thank you for reading!
4. Busy
No one had ever told her that being a widower was such hard
work. It was tragic, yes, that she’d heard plenty, but death was likely so when
a particularly dear husband had been the departee.
Dear…even in thought that sounded preposterously untrue.
Not to say that she’d hated him; the two had been polite strangers
sharing a house. It had never extended to a home, though she’d always been busy
picking furnishings and flowers in an attempt to fabricate something more emotionally
satisfying.
Now he was gone and she was still busy, but not with the
house; with suitors.
100 words
@Afsaneh_Dreams
Busy picking furnishings and flowers! I love that line! Our pinterest boards are overflowing with furnishings and flowers ... we are besotted with beautiful things until a certain man in scarlet breeches walks into our lives!! :)
ReplyDeleteWe are indeed! Have to find our way to a 19th century re enactment of some sort to find him! ;)
ReplyDeleteHow sad; polite strangers. . . . sounds like she's making up for lost time now. xx
ReplyDelete