Senses

I'm not sure what this is to be honest. Merely a short burst of words to portray how I was feeling at a certain point.

Most of the day she sat beneath the oak tree. Perched on it's thickest root and swathed in a robe of thick black wool.

The wool made her skin itch, but she was thankful for it on this December evening and gathered it close around her to keep out the seasons merciless chill. Deeply she inhaled. Bitter winter piercing the weave of her cloak, a frozen blade that found her heart too quickly, and with it, the comforting scent of earth, moss and yesterdays rainwater.

For hours she had watched the small body of water, only inches from her feet. Not seemingly different from the average lake land tarn but steadily growing dim as the evening approached. The surface of polished nickel was a mirror for the marbled sky and its first born stars but beneath, secrets hid. 

Reviews

[Kieran James Waite]

Joanne. Take this further. Keep telling the story. I love it!! xx Love you

[Joanne Jayne]

Thankyou :) love you too xxx

[Robert Parlange]

Very good descriptive writing. It pulls the reader in. Please continue this piece. You have a narrative talent.

[Vishuddha]

You definitely need to re-enter this trance and see where it tastes you. It is intriguing and was going somewhere. What sort of secrets, important enough to keep her in the cold, alone, not going home although the night approaches? What might be in a lake, a pond, a pool, a puddle? A magic stone? A wishing ring? The key to open the castle tower? A black box full of demons? The map to a hidden treasure? And then, what happens next?

[Woody]

I like this. nice little piece. I feel this begs for a continuation, though.