The next couple of weeks you’ll be getting a special preview of my upcoming new release – Memory House!
Saturday morning Annie wakes – Friday Fiction
Saturday morning Annie wakes with a smile on her face. For several minutes she remains in bed savoring the sweetness of a dream that has now left her. She remembers only a feeling of happiness but cannot remember the dream itself. It was not of Michael, that she knows. Thoughts of him have almost vanished and the emptiness of the hole he left behind has somehow been filled. There is a strange new excitement pulsing through her veins, an excitement she hasn’t felt in a very long time.
She tosses the coverlet back, climbs from the bed and pulls on her jeans. This sudden interest in growing things is an odd turn of events, but she is not in the mood to question it. She is ready for change, ready for something new, ready to leave her worn and weary thoughts behind.
Breezing into the kitchen, she sees Ophelia already at the stove. “Good morning,” she says brightly.
Ophelia returns the smile and motions Annie to sit. “I know you enjoyed these yesterday.” She sets a basket of biscuits and a jar on honey on the table. The yeasty aroma is as enticing as it was last night.
This time Annie does not hesitate, she helps herself to a biscuit and spreads it with honey that is thick with pieces of honeycomb. “This isn’t from the store, is it?” she asks. Her words sound garbled coming through a mouthful of warm sweetness, but Ophelia understands.
“No it isn’t,” she answers. “I keep a hive at the far end of the garden.”
Annie chuckles. “Is there anything you can’t do?” she teases.
“Oh there are many things I can’t do,” Ophelia replies. “But I try not to think of them. Such thoughts only weigh a person down.”
Annie is still pondering the truth of that when Ophelia sets a platter of pancakes and bacon on the table then pours two cups of Dandelion tea.
Annie is a coffee-drinker and finds it almost impossible to start the day without a full mug. But on this particular morning she sips the dandelion tea and says nothing. Although it is pale in color and thin compared to the robust coffee she drinks, it is strangely satisfying. The bitterness that first stung her tongue is gone; in its place is a sweet aftertaste that reminds her of cherry wine.