As my Grandmother’s peonies wake up from their long winter’s nap, I am revisiting an ongoing story I am once again writing for. Please visit and read the first 7 parts of “Where The Peonies Bloom.” I have reblogged part 1, The other 6 parts can be found on this blog in the category by the same name. Enjoy!
The dream had transported her back to him. Unwillingly opening her eyes, she instantly felt his breath on her neck fading away and his whispered words disappeared into the afternoon air. The sun was lower in the sky, the house would soon be full of the lives she had created and co-existed. Napping was a luxury most couldn’t afford this time of the year, but she felt no guilt. Unrecognizable, the reflection in the mirror meeting her gaze seems to be a stranger. The obvious crow’s feet and laugh lines evidence of a life filled with laughter and joy. Her eyes and skin tinted with colors of long forgotten or claimed ancestors. As she stares, she is unwilling to believe that others don’t see past the façade to the deep cracks in her soul, the damage, the loss, the fear, the silence. She is a…
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