Starting Over #8

Tuesday TalesWelcome to TUESDAY TALES. After a brief summer hiatus, we’re back on track. This week we’re writing to a picture prompt. Only 300 words, so the reading is quick.

Today’s snippet is part of a new WIP, tentatively titled ‘Starting Over’.

The story of Victoria and her antique shop in Oak Grove Square continues. Earlier in the tale, Victoria purchased a trunk full of old items from a handsome, but seemingly cold and uncaring, man. He enters Victoria’s life again, coming with an odd and surprising gift, a packet of old love letters. His appearance in her life leaves her full of conflicting emotions.

Enjoy – and feel free to leave a comment. Click the link here to go back to the main Tuesday Tales site for more entertaining story snippets.

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TT_pic promt 092214Thoughts of escape raced through Victoria’s mind like the running of the bulls at Pamplona. Running away – it was her modus operandi. Turn and flee, rather than face the demons – real or imagined.

That’s how she had ended up in this place and time.

Run away.

Move away.

Start new projects.

Learn new hobbies.

Start a new life – take up a new vocation.

Anything to avoid looking within too deeply, or too intently.

She knew what could help in her healing was a weekend away at her friend Sheri’s. Just her and her thoughts. The rustic setting on the acreage overlooking Ray Roberts Lake created a buffer from civilization. She needed to stop running and get to the bottom of these conflicting emotions. It was a perfect location for introspection.

Find Peace. It would become her new mantra.

Water always helped her. It was a calm and healing balm for her soul. Ray Roberts Lake wasn’t Laguna Beach, her favorite retreat spot. But, as Dorothy wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Victoria wasn’t in California either. At least the lake view from Sheri’s porch was liquid and full of gentle movement. And quiet.

Too bad it was so darn cold and icy right now. Sheri would have to wait for company. Victoria wasn’t going to attempt an hour’s drive north in this weather. She would have to find another mode to attain peace. Without running away this time.

A vision of Toby’s face, with its brief look of gentle compassion, drifted into her memory. That face was compelling and piqued her interest. Too bad that wasn’t usually the face he showed the world. So which one was the real Toby, she wondered?

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