OMG Woke thinking I wouldn’t blog instead the story writer emerged again!

First draft and haven’t planned the story line but I’m crazed woman, I have been going for the last few hours! Had a shower (finally to get myself out of my dressing gown) and kept thinking of how I would continue. I shan’t bore you with everything that I have madly typed but here is a smidge.

Can I say how happy I am? Is that just plain craziness? Forgive my enthusiasm. The bug has hit and for the time being it shall continue – I refuse to get the BLOCK..I refuse (famous last words)…

Veronica settled herself against the large elm trunk that supported the twisted heavy branches dense with foliage above her and gazed out across the meadows as far as her eyes could see.

The air was motionless not a leaf nor a blade of grass moved and the only sound that could be heard were the birds calling to one another and the faint voices of other visitors staying in the cabins. This would be her home for the next week and she smiled, closed her eyes and gently sighed in unison at the thought.

Time had elapsed, startled on its own, her body jolted realising she had drifted asleep and when she peered through squinted eyes dusk was upon her.

She had come away for a week of relaxation, of undisturbed seclusion, however as she scrambled to stand up and regain her awareness, she wondered if in fact it may be just that bit too tranquil? Could she simply allow herself to take in the scenery, breathe in the country air and admire the beautiful countryside? Could she revel in kicking off her sneakers and feel the lush grass beneath her feet or would this sleepy existence become too much for her to bear?

She grabbed her glass of half quaffed wine and book, page unturned and strolled back to the cabins. It was only day one she giggled trying to convince herself, of course I will cope. As she strolled along the path opening the wrought iron gate that enclosed the pristine garden beds she knew that this is what was needed, a break from the bustling world, her job, her suburban but hectic existence. She bent down to admire the irises in the garden bed outside her room that stood tall and majestic, their pale lilac petals enveloped like a glove with the darker leaves cradling the stem to which they clung to.

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