Second Chances by Leigh Brown, Victoria Corliss Page A
Authors: Leigh Brown, Victoria Corliss
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of the cafe, away from George, away from his anguished gaze that continued to burn long after she was out of sight.
* * *
For some time after that fateful meeting and George’s full disclosure, she’d lived in a mind-numbing state of nothingness. In less than five minutes, life as she thought she knew it had been turned upside down leaving her hanging suspended, an emotional wreck and a creative cripple.
He’d once claimed that timing wasn’t his strong suit, but George had hit the mark perfectly this time. With pressing deadlines bearing down on her, Pashmina was stuck, unable to write a word, paralyzed by his confession. Lethargic, apathetic, and void of her usual ability to write at will, she struggled, half-heartedly chipping away at the mental block impeding her writing while trying to think of another way around it.
The evenings were the hardest. Anxious and uneasy, she was desperate for relief from consciousness. Fighting to get some sleep one night, she’d reached into her night table drawer for a sedative and found something else buried under the pile of tissues, notepads, and reading glasses that lived there. George’s manuscript weighed heavy in her hands as she pulled the dusty manila folder from the drawer and eyed it suspiciously.
It won’t bite you silly girl. It’s just a manuscript, you read a long time ago. Too long ago to remember? Turning the folder over and raising the unsealed flap, she let the bound pages glide easily out of their protective sleeve and began to read. Maybe a good bedtime story was all she needed.
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
George stepped easily over the heavy rope neatly coiled on the dock, the warmth of the early morning sun already heating his skin, and the cool sea air filling his lungs. Early as it was, the village of Cronilys was a bustle of activity as fishermen crowded the docks preparing their boats for a full day of baiting and netting.
“George!” someone yelled and he turned squinting against the sun to see who it was.
“What is it Vasily?” he called, instantly recognizing the short, squat captain of the CERILIA fishing boat. As round as he was tall, good natured Vasily was often the butt of many jokes but no one was more respected on these docks than him and George counted himself lucky to be one of his crew.
“Grab those buckets of bait and bring them to the front of the boat. We need to take off in the next half hour if we’re going to lead the fleet.”
George smiled. “OK boss. I’ll be right there. Just need to grab some tobacco at the Fish Stand. Do you need anything?”
“Get me some too will you?”
With a wave to Vasily he headed down the dock towards a small merchant’s market called The Fish Stand. Invaluable to those who worked the docks, it had all the things fishermen needed: cigarettes, cold drinks and snacks, not to mention gossip. Once a long time ago, George had asked about newspapers. “What do you need a paper for,” the shop keeper had asked?“ Anything you need to know you can find out right here at The Fish Stand.”
Chuckling at the memory he grabbed two packages of chewing tobacco giving a quick scan of the worn shelves to see if there was anything else he needed.
“Thank you for the fish, Cosmos,” a woman’s lilting voice sounded pleasantly from the front of the store as he approached the counter, “I’ll see you again soon,” she promised. Lifting a paper bag filled with her purchases she turned to leave and came eye-to-eye with George standing directly behind her.
Her eyes grew wide as she stared into his baby blues gazing calmly back at her. With casual interest, George let his eyes stray from her face, panning the length of her trim form and back again. She was middle-aged, wearing a blue sundress and leather sandals, her dark hair piled on top of her head. Looking slightly flustered and with a nervous smile she moved towards the exit.
“Wait, please,” he asked halting her in her
* * *
For some time after that fateful meeting and George’s full disclosure, she’d lived in a mind-numbing state of nothingness. In less than five minutes, life as she thought she knew it had been turned upside down leaving her hanging suspended, an emotional wreck and a creative cripple.
He’d once claimed that timing wasn’t his strong suit, but George had hit the mark perfectly this time. With pressing deadlines bearing down on her, Pashmina was stuck, unable to write a word, paralyzed by his confession. Lethargic, apathetic, and void of her usual ability to write at will, she struggled, half-heartedly chipping away at the mental block impeding her writing while trying to think of another way around it.
The evenings were the hardest. Anxious and uneasy, she was desperate for relief from consciousness. Fighting to get some sleep one night, she’d reached into her night table drawer for a sedative and found something else buried under the pile of tissues, notepads, and reading glasses that lived there. George’s manuscript weighed heavy in her hands as she pulled the dusty manila folder from the drawer and eyed it suspiciously.
It won’t bite you silly girl. It’s just a manuscript, you read a long time ago. Too long ago to remember? Turning the folder over and raising the unsealed flap, she let the bound pages glide easily out of their protective sleeve and began to read. Maybe a good bedtime story was all she needed.
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
George stepped easily over the heavy rope neatly coiled on the dock, the warmth of the early morning sun already heating his skin, and the cool sea air filling his lungs. Early as it was, the village of Cronilys was a bustle of activity as fishermen crowded the docks preparing their boats for a full day of baiting and netting.
“George!” someone yelled and he turned squinting against the sun to see who it was.
“What is it Vasily?” he called, instantly recognizing the short, squat captain of the CERILIA fishing boat. As round as he was tall, good natured Vasily was often the butt of many jokes but no one was more respected on these docks than him and George counted himself lucky to be one of his crew.
“Grab those buckets of bait and bring them to the front of the boat. We need to take off in the next half hour if we’re going to lead the fleet.”
George smiled. “OK boss. I’ll be right there. Just need to grab some tobacco at the Fish Stand. Do you need anything?”
“Get me some too will you?”
With a wave to Vasily he headed down the dock towards a small merchant’s market called The Fish Stand. Invaluable to those who worked the docks, it had all the things fishermen needed: cigarettes, cold drinks and snacks, not to mention gossip. Once a long time ago, George had asked about newspapers. “What do you need a paper for,” the shop keeper had asked?“ Anything you need to know you can find out right here at The Fish Stand.”
Chuckling at the memory he grabbed two packages of chewing tobacco giving a quick scan of the worn shelves to see if there was anything else he needed.
“Thank you for the fish, Cosmos,” a woman’s lilting voice sounded pleasantly from the front of the store as he approached the counter, “I’ll see you again soon,” she promised. Lifting a paper bag filled with her purchases she turned to leave and came eye-to-eye with George standing directly behind her.
Her eyes grew wide as she stared into his baby blues gazing calmly back at her. With casual interest, George let his eyes stray from her face, panning the length of her trim form and back again. She was middle-aged, wearing a blue sundress and leather sandals, her dark hair piled on top of her head. Looking slightly flustered and with a nervous smile she moved towards the exit.
“Wait, please,” he asked halting her in her
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