The cottage was in the small village that was surrounded by moorland. The scenery was beautiful outside. Green, peaceful, pleasant. The village was sleepy, but friendly. When they arrived here, they remembered how the times with her parents at the cottage were filled with love and care. They were gone now, but they had given she and her husband the lovely gift of the cottage. They used it as a get-away from high-pressure life they lived in the city. Now, the pandemic had driven them out of the city and they took refuge in the cottage in the countryside.
It was a very small place, perfect for two people, though when they came here with her parents, they squeezed in four. It had only four rooms downstairs. In the front, there was a large living area with cushy furniture and colors that reminded her of her childhood. Lots of pinks, greens, and blues. Some of her artwork from childhood was hanging on the walls along with lovely photos of this part of the country and pictures of family members who were all gone now. A big fireplace and hearth were at the side of the room with floor pillows all around. They enjoyed this room.
Continue reading at Rosemary Carlson, Writer
Are you in a hurry?
I stood in front of the bench. The sentencing judge peered down at me with a look of disgust.
(For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape of green moorland and hills, with a pool of water near rocks in the foreground and a heavy bank of white cloud rolling in and masking the horizon)
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 