#ShroudedSundays

It’s that time of the week again, #ShroudedSundays. Enjoy this week’s excerpt of A Shrouded Spark as you prepare for your week.

Find the first excerpt here!

Find the second excerpt here!

On the verge of sleep, Noni’s mind wandered. She breathed in the scent of the pillows on the couch. They didn’t smell of the fabric softeners that her Aunt used. In fact, they smelt of cigarettes, which her Aunt wasn’t supposed to be smoking. She fell asleep inhaling the scent of tobacco.

Noni had the same dream that she’d been having for at least a week. She stood in the garden full of flowers underneath a sky full of clouds, anxiously waiting for rain, or the sun, for something, for anything.

This time, as she waited, she noticed that the flowers began to wilt. All at once, they shriveled up, lost all of their color, and withered away to nothing. As they died, Noni realized that she wasn’t breathing. She grabbed at her chest and throat, fighting to take a breath. There was no air to breathe in. The flowers turned to dust and the ground turned black, dead and dry. She fell to her knees then, fingers digging into the ground as her lungs caved into themselves. Flames rose from the dirt like weeds, engulfing everything.

She was on fire. Every inch of her skin was burning. Through the crackling of the flames, she could swear she heard her mother, shrieking. This was the first night that Noni woke up screaming.

 

…look for more next Sunday!

Donate to the GoFundMe campaign to help me get A Shrouded Spark published!

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About Breshea A.

Author. Teacher. Poet. "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." Eleanor Roosevelt.
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