A/N: This wasn't really a full story, just the first paragraph of one. I have a couple like this.
The first time I saw Elizabeth, I almost became the casualty of a carriage accident. I'd been crossing the street, on my way to retrieve her from the docks when I first caught sight of her; I stopped in my tracks—in the middle of the street, hence the near-death experience with a carriage and a very angry horse that I'm not sure has forgiven me to this day. The letter that had informed me of her impending arrival from America had said nothing of her beauty, and what a crime that had been. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders freely, her long brown locks not constrained by a clip or a comb. Her brown eyes searched around, assumingly for myself, and weren't here eyes beautiful as well? A soft brown,nearly the same color as her hair, and absolutely captivating. And they were set in such a lovely face, so fair and smooth. Her accent when she first spoke to me—after I had finally passed the street and introduced myself to her—surprised me. Not American, as I'd expected, but English. Would anything about this woman not be a total shock to me? Well, besides her family. I'd known who they were before the letter even arrived. When she told me about them, I could definitely see it in her. The d'Urbervilles of London, moved to America some years ago to finds a suitable husband for their daughter, Elizabeth. Apparently that had failed,though their fortune certainly hadn't. I could see it in the fine silk of her dress, hand spun and worth a decent bit of change, even here in England. I imagined the queen herself had a gown of similar fine quality and worth.
YOU ARE READING
Short Story Collection
Short StoryA few years ago, I was in a creative writing class and wrote these from prompts or in dream journals or after a number of different exercises. Now I'm consolidating them and putting them into a fun collection for people to read. Eventually, I might...