Femme Friday is here!
Introducing a fun little segment which will be published on Fridays (when I have a mind). I will explore heroines, femme fatales and perhaps a few role models thrown in. There might be some sample writing, there might be some waxing poetic. Ya never know on Femme Friday. Subscribe to the blog so you’ll have it in your RSS reader the moment it releases.
My heroine in an upcoming story is transitioning from one circumstance to another. From something very safe to a new and unknown situation.
She stared at it. Slowly, a smile crept to one corner of her lips. The other corner remained flat save for a minuscule curve. Standing in the threshold of the cabin she had occupied for the past six months, [She] took one last survey. It was bare. Spotless. Her eyes travelled from right to left taking in the room. Grey, gunmetal grey from top to bottom, swathed in bluish light and bare. Nothing said hospitality like a cruise ship’s single occupancy crew cabin.
…and then something came up.
When your parachute fails, you pray. You pray even if you don’t believe in a form of higher intelligence or mercy. You pray for a miracle. You pray for wings.
Maybe she’s not ready for independence?
The steam hid her view as he lifted her up and pressed her to the shower wall. It didn’t matter what she remembered now. There were clean sheets. There would be breakfast. He would get a uniform on and leave and she would see him later to do it all over again. It felt ok, too. Yet, it felt strange and wrong. Was she going to allow someone else to choose the path or was she in control? Everything was vague and uncertain. One thing was for certain, it was marking time.
Featured image used by permission