creative writing

Humid

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Myra gasped for air, her long, lank hair sticking to her neck like straw colored plastic wrap to day old hot dogs. She swatted at flies buzzing around her head and tried to concentrate on her breathing. The air was thick and hung around the porch like mosquito netting. Myra took a deep breath in, fanning herself with her too-thin hand.

 

humid

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen 🙂

Glowing

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Crouching near the base of the cement stairs, Magda could hear booted footsteps approaching. Shifting back into the shadows, the approaching torches were glowing, casting shadows of their bearer against the stone walls of the stairwell. She would know his profile anywhere. She unsheathed her dagger and held it firmly in her hand.

glowing

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen 🙂