Hello all. I hope you keep the setting descriptions coming. I'm away over the weekend and may be a little slower that usual responding but I do plan to check in here and there and will comment on your posts as soon as I can.
If not for the “house on fire” call from Aunt Ida I would not be standing here. Resisting Aunt Ida even from far away was impossible. Often I’d find myself searching for something she’d seen in a magazine or on TV. Not once had she called and begged me to come home. This time she called in such a panic using words like hallucinations, crazy talk, and seeing shadows with no one near by as she described my Fathers’ current state. How frighten she must be to live in that cramp apartment above the art emporium with him possibly losing his mind. I’d hoped once I left she would find the courage to leave as well. There was a time when I too felt afraid to escape the false protection of the majestic mountains down Main Street, the comforting clutter of the art emporium with it’s cheerful facade, and my Father.
Not sure if it's too late for this? I'm new here and just jumping in! :-)
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They were in a small, rocky clearing at the edge of a large lake. The shoreline was rocky and ragged. Heavy, grey clouds crawled across the sky, casting large dark shadows on the water. Tall reeds growing along the shoreline between the scattered rocks swayed in the slight breeze. Vesper was at the water’s edge, lapping the water, ears twitching. Sylvhan’s worried eyes focused on her father, lying on a pile of blankets beside her. He hadn’t moved since they had placed him there a few hours earlier. Vesper’s head lifted suddenly, her nose twitching as she scented the breeze. Sylvhan grabbed her dagger and rose when Vesper stalked to the edge of the woods, her hackles rising.
After a day of shopping, Trina returned to her hotel room, which contained a queen-size bed and a smart TV. In the corner was a small round table with two chairs and a blue wine bottle with a fake carnation inside. The place was roomy and had a spectacular view of the mountains in the distance. Unfortunately, the headboard in the room next to hers banged rhythmically against the wall they shared. Just what she needed. All she wanted to do was relax and order room service. Instead, she knocked on the wall with her fist as hard as she could. The noise stopped, but only for a moment. Should she knock on their door instead? Or call the concierge?
Hello all. I hope you keep the setting descriptions coming. I'm away over the weekend and may be a little slower that usual responding but I do plan to check in here and there and will comment on your posts as soon as I can.
If not for the “house on fire” call from Aunt Ida I would not be standing here. Resisting Aunt Ida even from far away was impossible. Often I’d find myself searching for something she’d seen in a magazine or on TV. Not once had she called and begged me to come home. This time she called in such a panic using words like hallucinations, crazy talk, and seeing shadows with no one near by as she described my Fathers’ current state. How frighten she must be to live in that cramp apartment above the art emporium with him possibly losing his mind. I’d hoped once I left she would find the courage to leave as well. There was a time when I too felt afraid to escape the false protection of the majestic mountains down Main Street, the comforting clutter of the art emporium with it’s cheerful facade, and my Father.
Not sure if it's too late for this? I'm new here and just jumping in! :-)
===================
They were in a small, rocky clearing at the edge of a large lake. The shoreline was rocky and ragged. Heavy, grey clouds crawled across the sky, casting large dark shadows on the water. Tall reeds growing along the shoreline between the scattered rocks swayed in the slight breeze. Vesper was at the water’s edge, lapping the water, ears twitching. Sylvhan’s worried eyes focused on her father, lying on a pile of blankets beside her. He hadn’t moved since they had placed him there a few hours earlier. Vesper’s head lifted suddenly, her nose twitching as she scented the breeze. Sylvhan grabbed her dagger and rose when Vesper stalked to the edge of the woods, her hackles rising.
After a day of shopping, Trina returned to her hotel room, which contained a queen-size bed and a smart TV. In the corner was a small round table with two chairs and a blue wine bottle with a fake carnation inside. The place was roomy and had a spectacular view of the mountains in the distance. Unfortunately, the headboard in the room next to hers banged rhythmically against the wall they shared. Just what she needed. All she wanted to do was relax and order room service. Instead, she knocked on the wall with her fist as hard as she could. The noise stopped, but only for a moment. Should she knock on their door instead? Or call the concierge?