This is a snippet of what I wrote this morning: It was three oclock in the morning and Kerri couldnt sleep. Luther wanted her to give up her ancestral home and move in with him. Her grandmother, Elaina, would smite her down from above if she abandoned her family heritage. The antiquated Summerville manor was handed down from generation to generation. She paced back and forth in the living room, thinking about how disappointed Luther looked when she told him she wasnt selling her family home. Signs of Kerris happy upbringing dotted the land, like the tire swing her grandfather Claude had put up on an old oak tree in the back yard, her old waitress uniform from seven years ago when she worked as a waitress selling Lucky Dogs, the best hot dogs in the world placed in a time capsule and stashed away in the flower garden, along with her New Orleans Saints jersey, a book of photographs of historical sites she had taken when she first became a photojournalist, and a newspaper headline clipping of when she received honors for photojournalist of the year. The rumbling refrigerator sounded deafening in the quiet house. Her shadow on the wall from the ceiling light stood spooky, unsettling, and wraithlike. She clutched her purple bathrobe tightly around her, chilled and plagued by the expression of hurt and disenchantment on her husbands face. Kerri was wired and on edge. She had to talk to him. They had to come to some sort of compromise. A car alarm went off outside. Kerri ran out to investigate and found Luther standing in the moonlight on the drivers side of his sports car eyeballing her house. He had on a T-shirt, one side hanging out of his blue jeans, and his shoulder-length fine brown hair was damp on his head and hung like wet noodles as if he had just gotten out of the shower and dressed in a hurry. ~ Author Roe Hill
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 17:41:10 +0000
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