Snow

Well, in another attempt to write out some frustrations, I stumbled upon an ambitious project. It will take quite some thought and effort to get it right, but it has promise.

I've got too many of these stories stacking up in my brain, though, all of them clamoring for my attention. One at a time, my dears. You'll all have your chance.

Below is what I've written so far, and the first person who can tell me where this is going wins a virtual cookie. (But please remember, it's a very rough draft.)

Snow

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

She could feel it pumping, beneath her skin, beneath her breast.

Lub dub. Lub dub.

Her heart squeezed and contracted, sending blood through her veins and out onto the icy pavement beneath her. She was surrounded by the red aura of her own blood.

Lub dub.

The car that had backed over her was long gone. When would they come? Sirens sounded in the distance, and she knew there wouldn’t be time for her. But for the child. Her child.

Lub . . .

———

Heather Winslow was born precisely at midnight, taken from her mother’s womb though the woman who had incubated her now lay cold in the morgue. Grieving over a dead wife, John barely noticed the utter paleness of the newborn’s skin and the black mat of hair on her head. But he did see that the ruby lips of the babe looked as though tainted by blood.

He called her Heather, after her mother. But no one called her that. She was always known as Snow.

———

(I'm also thinking that Snow will be joined by a few friends, among them Rorie, Ellie, Essa, and Zelle. Solve those riddles if you can. And as has been the case of late, their stories are rather dark.)