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Mairead O'Neill, 25 Sep '12

        Living lawlessly is not romantic. It is a necessity.

        I shove my knife into my boot, slip the purse into my pocket, jump down from the front of the stagecoach. My companion slides his blunderbuss into his coat, tosses his hair out of his face, whistles once, and the dogs bound away from the driver, and we fall back and let the coach continue along the icy road. Night is falling as we melt into the shadow of the forest; I can hear the silvers clinking in Casper's coat, I can hear the golden rain of his laughter; in my mind's eye I can see his triumphant smile without turning.
        The horses are where we left them; they grumble softly, ears flicking, when I move to untie them. Pine needles crunch under my feet; the forest is cold and treacherous, and I will be glad to leave it. Casper is singing quietly and absentmindedly, leaping into the saddle along with the crescendo of his tune, and we ride off into the night.

Comments · 4

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  • Anthony Blackshaw said...

    If I could like something more than once I would definitely do so for this burst. I'm desperate to read on :( Wonderful burst Mairead.

    • Posted 6 years ago
  • Mairead O'Neill said...

    Thank you @Anthony Blackshaw I'm flattered! This is actually a new start for a novel concept I had a few years ago but never did anything with, so I'm sure there will be more!

    • Posted 6 years ago
  • Anthony Blackshaw said...

    Glad to hear it :)

    • Posted 6 years ago
  • bill spencer said...

    It's a good scene that takes place at an interesting point in the story. The scene is to the point with a narrator that's intriguing because she sees beyond the expected and because of what she's doing.

    • Posted 6 years ago