The only way she could think was to walk. She had found a long, lonely road on the island where no one lived. It was filled with the shade of the low palms and the unfamiliar sounds of the tropical birds as the swooped above her head. She couldn’t think at her home. He was there. Right beside her. Confusing her thoughts. She could only escape occasionally. On those occasions, she either went to the ocean or this lonely road.

She suddenly saw a house lying off the road, set back in a palm grove. She’d never walked this far before so she didn’t know the house. A manor house. It looked deserted. She could cool off there. The vegetation was grown up around the house. It seemed as if no one had been here in a long time. She pulled the door open. She was shocked at what she saw before her.

Continue reading at Rosemary Carlson’s blog