"What I saw today"
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The Christmas Message

Read an extract from my short story

Sarah had recently moved from an Edwardian house close to Birmingham’s Moseley Village area, from her bedroom she could see oak and ash trees first thing in the morning and again before she fell asleep at night looking out through her open window. Leaving her bedroom window open at night was something she had done for so long. While others were locked in the bubble of a warm silent bedroom she could hear the wind blowing, and the boughs of the trees, their leaves and past history moving slowly, such was the immense size of them.

She loved knowing the night air was moving around her bedroom, she loved the scents of the outside world coming in.  Depending on the season, sometimes she could inhale the scents of flowers and hear children on the street outside, at other times owls, cars, winds, shouting and storms. No one night was ever the same, that was for sure.. Sometimes she wondered if her spirit had gone to play in the garden under the moonlight, the force of nature was around her as she slept.

The house she left had a mature garden and was surrounded by high brick walls and filled with wild flowers. Inside were parquet floors, galleried staircases, a large cellar where she often retreated to with a book and a glass of wine in the summer months. The new apartment couldn’t have been more different it was very modern with views of Birmingham’s city canals through large windows – it was modern, fresh and new the way that she wanted her life to be.

She walked past Central library, Christmas decorations glistened from every building. . The sound of Norah Jones singing greeted her as she walked into an Italian restaurant on Broad Street to meet friends she had been to university with over six years ago. Mark would not be there, he would be with his new wife now. He had said so when one of the others had invited him to the reunion; it was the first one he had ever missed. Why does Christmas make you miss people so much?

Micro diamonds of snow fell around as she walked back home, she felt excited about the future but still nostalgic about the past, it was hard for her to move on. She had been together with Mark for seven years but the magic that you hear people talk about was never there not in the way that she expected it to be. Why should she have settled for less? She couldn’t agree to marry him – so why did she stay for so long? He got tired of waiting. No sparkle she thought as she gazed into the blurred array of coloured lights. The December air was fresh and crisp – she felt a slight emptiness mingled with excitement as she headed back to her new apartment.

Short stories include: The Webmasters Wife, The Christmas Message, The Partner, The Old Girls Trip To The House of Lords, What Was Left - these are just five of the titles you will receive out of your fifty-two. Click here to read extracts of the stories.

Would you like to go to bed every Thursday night, knowing as you fall asleep that for the next fifty-two weeks you will wake up on Friday morning to an original, unique short story created by me in your e-mail box ,followed by one every Friday morning for the next fifty-two weeks. Pay one pound in total and receive all fifty-two – Lucinda.

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The Webmaster’s Wife

"Anna sat opposite to her husband Mark in the bookshop’s cafe. It felt to her that he was slipping away like a golden magical ball with a momentum all of its own slowly disappearing over green rolling hills silently without drama but definitely, as if by magic vanishing."

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The Christmas Message

"The lift door opened, a woman was already in there, she smiled a little but Sarah couldn’t help noticing how sad and tired she looked. Her hair was pale blond her eyes barely blue – and she was dressed almost in summer clothes, a white embroidered gypsy top and turquoise long skirt with pink sandals; there was a guitar by her feet."

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The Partner

"Mark turned the wheel of the car and drove onto the broad drive of a gothic style house that had been converted into a restaurant and hotel. 'This is one of my favourite eating-places”; He said without looking at her - yet during the four months that she had known him he had never mentioned the place before."

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Art For Sale

Sophie J Rush

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