Hey, everyone, here is a short fiction piece from the Elizabeth DiMaggio universe. This takes place a number of years after the other posts, but trust me, there are plenty of stories to fill in the gap, once I get around to writing them all.
As was habit, Liz had fallen asleep, not in her bed after a calming bedtime routine, but on the couch surrounded by the day’s work. The pricey black fabric she had purchased a few days ago became her blanket while pattern pieces fluttered occasionally to the floor under the soft breeze of her now even breathes. At this time of year, and given her erratic sleep schedule, she’d drifted off before night had taken hold, so the room had gradually darkened save for a lamp situated on a table next to the couch.
This may not have appeared a promising scene, but, in fact, hinted at improvement, given that instead of being surrounded in the white realities of other women’s happily- ever-afters, tonight she was enveloped in the blackness of her own present. A present that for the first time since her exhausted mind would let her remember, allowed for the possibility of a future.
Despite this achingly tiny prospect of hope, it wasn’t the pins stuck in the armrest that left the young woman restless even in her exhaustion. That could only be attributed to the dreams.Continue reading