Short Stories

MY STORY CORNER

An excerpt from a short story by Laurel-Rain Snow, “Sleepwalker” tells a tale of abuse, memory retrieval, and healing.

“Phoebe Welch?”

I glance up from the magazine I’ve been nervously skimming and stand cautiously, as if trying to get my bearings.  Then rather shakily I move toward the doorway and the beckoning voice, but hesitate for just a fraction of a second.   As if I’ve then somehow shored up my courage, I resolutely follow the receptionist down the corridor to Dr. Holmes’s office.

For the complete story, go to:

LAUREL-RAIN SNOW ON AUTHOR’S DEN

IN ANOTHER SHORT STORY, “STUMBLING TOWARD SERENITY,” VIEW HERE, FOR A TALE OF ONE WOMAN’S QUEST FOR PEACE AFTER RETIREMENT:

I awakened very slowly that spring morning, aware of a strange feeling of disorientation.  Had my alarm clock malfunctioned?  As I glanced at its face, registering the time at seven o’clock, I momentarily panicked.  Normally, I would have been up an hour-and-a-half before, halfway to work by this time, refreshed by my shower and fortified by my two cups of coffee.  I would have quickly perused the headlines in the morning paper.  After thirty years of this scene, I did have it down pat.  But today something seemed oddly off-kilter.

Along with the rays of sunshine peering through the slats in my blinds, announcing the beginning to a beautiful day, I sensed encompassing warmth unexplainable by the morning sun, but it took a few minutes for it all to fall into place.  And then it hit me!  This is the first day of the rest of my life!

For the rest of the story, go to:

LAUREL-RAIN SNOW ON AUTHOR’S DEN

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