Here is the picture for this week's Tuesday's Tales Prompt
My offering this week is a short snippet from a new WIP in a series of short stories.
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Like living frames, the pines flanked the view of the distant mountains from her window. Three years ago she’d crossed those snow-capped mountains and bought this former royal hunting lodge, and still didn’t know when cowardice or courage had driven her away from everything she held dear, and everything she’d lost.
She looked down at the horseshoe in her hand. No trace of the rust remained, now it caught a feeble ray of sunshine and glowed.
What a difference a day made! First when she lost her husband and son in a motorway pile-up and now the horseshoe that wasn’t there one moment and was the next. How had she missed it sitting there on that shelf? She used it regularly. And why, she pondered now, had she felt compelled to bring it straight inside and clean it up?
She’d expected sturdy grey metal and discovered bright shiny, almost unmarked silver instead. No one, not even a former king would have his horses shod with silver shoes. The metal wasn’t enduring enough, and yet, this horse-shoe was full-sized.
Perhaps that last glass of celebratory wine had been one too many to toast the New Year? Otherwise why did she imagine the silver horse-shoe pulsed in her hand?
The sound of footsteps behind her spun her round where she stood and stole the breath from her lungs.
The man standing in front of her looked dangerous, tall, wide-shouldered and with a thatch of thick shaggy hair as golden as a sun in full summer.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice, so deep she felt the shock waves hit her heart, demanded answers. His eyes, a violet so deep, reminded her of Scottish heather in full bloom, held disdain.
“I live here,” she said, pulling her shoulders back, “and you’re trespassing.”
Thanks you for reading another snippet this week, and please hop on over to read everyone's offering for this weeks Tuesday's Tales prompt