peek at my novel: saved alone

Mrs. Spafford

Mr. Spafford

            As soon as we opened our room door, I knew something was wrong. It was clearly written on Mr. Spafford’s thin and drawn face. Standing by the window, the sun cast a harsh shadow making him appear much older than really he was.

            Mrs. Spafford was seated in a chair, her head resting on her dainty fist.

            “Why don’t you go to your bedroom, eh?” I suggested to the children, who didn’t notice their parent’s odd mood.

            When the children had left through the adjoining door, I turned and gazed at the couple, waiting for them to say something. But nothing came, and they remained in their trance.

            “Is something wrong?” The words seemed so loud in the mute and slightly dark room, and only the children’s laughter next door could be heard. Mrs. Spafford whisked away a strand of brown hair on her forehead.

            “Mr. McGrievers has passed away,” came the answer.

                                                                                       ***

Here's another peek:

            BOOM!

            I screamed and flew up. The cabin was pitch black, except a thin, flickering light coming from under the door.

            “Emma!” Maggie cried. “What’s going on?”

            She and Bessie clung to my arms and wouldn’t let me get out of the bed.

            “I don’t know yet, darlings. Here, let me out. No, stop crying. I’m not leaving,” I said, in a voice as calm as I could muster.

            I climbed out of bed and staggered sleepily to the porthole, despite the constant shaking and tossing of the boat.

            I gasped in horror and stumbled backwards.

            “We’ve been hit!” I shrieked, forgetting two little eyes were watching my every move.

            The bow of a large vessel was rammed into the side of the Ville du Havre. Amidst the heavy fog, I could see the sailors of this foreign ship racing here and there, clanging bells and pulling on ropes.

            I flew to the wardrobe and pulled out our coats.

            “Put them on.”

            “But-“

            “Put them on!” I snapped. 

Later, 

Kathryn (aka Chatty Kathy)

P.S. This is my 200th post!