Dee Shaffer
Stories (6)
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Bitter Silence
“Au revoir et merci, Charles,” shouted Sofie as she sent off her elderly neighbor who lived a good mile downhill. He resided near the base of the icy road that led up the treacherous incline to her rugged stone house. A house that oozed secrecy as it sat perched at the highest point and rested in the dense fog of northern Scotland. But it was her home for 6 months of every year as she wrapped herself inside a wintry isolation that most would find unnerving.
By Dee Shaffer4 years ago in Fiction
The Barn
She told herself that if she heard one more glass being shattered or just one more candle being bashed into an unsuspecting wall, that she would escape. She huddled into a ball draped beneath a tattered blanket in the circular wicker chair that she had brought with her from her last relationship. The one thing of value that she was able to retrieve and claim as her own.
By Dee Shaffer4 years ago in Fiction
The Barn
She told herself that if she heard one more glass being shattered or just one more candle being bashed into an unsuspecting wall, that she would escape. She huddled into a ball draped beneath a tattered blanket in the circular wicker chair that she had brought with her from her last relationship. The one thing of value that she was able to retrieve and claim as her own.
By Dee Shaffer4 years ago in Fiction
