#writephoto: Unquiet bones

Just finished my WIP and as usual, Sue’s photo for the #writephoto prompt fits the theme perfectly.

Screen Shot 2020-04-01 at 17.56.52

Cecilia stopped out of breath at the crossroads. The place held no terror for her, but she was close to her time and the child would hear them calling as clearly as she did. She looked across the valley, the town huddled along the beck, out of sight, but the column of smoke from the mill chimney rose straight and black, a finger pointing at the indifferent sky.

The place held no terror for her, but it was full of a restless sadness. The quarry that was not a quarry gaped. She felt the pattering of footsteps beneath the earth, heard the scrape of clawed fingers on stone. He had never listened, never wanted to know. Perhaps he would not have cared anyway. His kind rarely did.

She sighed and turned back. Soon it would come. There is a time for everything, seasons, births, reckonings. She looked at the spire and the turrets that poked in their absurd monstrosity above the tree line. He had thought to build a mansion for himself and his heirs. He had built it on bones of the unquiet dead. She winced as the child stirred, and the wind blew cold. The saddest part was that when the flames came, he would not understand why.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

26 thoughts on “#writephoto: Unquiet bones”

      1. It should spring eternal and I, for one, can’t imagine why on earth you aren’t taking up shelves of space in the bibliotèque with your collections and novels. It’s a nonsense.

      2. Yes, I understand it is a simple matter of Publishers playing god and being ultra cautious. We had several conversations a few years ago. I need to get my head straighter but I will revisit the thoughts I had then. There absolutely HAS to be a way (and I’m not including literary prostitution in my mental list). This doesn’t just apply to you – there is a small handful of writers that I really value and whom I believe have real talent. The routine closed door in face is wholly depressing but there must be a key. I just need to work out what it is.

      3. Yes, I remember you being signed by a good one. She will come through. In the meantime please keep the faith – you are extremely talented and the world WILL wake up.

  1. Good work against mill stacks and the spires men think they must build. While being in the open has its perils, soon it will be much safer closer to the earth.

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