The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

VisDare 13: Superstitious, Pt. 6

As she lay on the sanctuary chairs, Annisa thought she heard footsteps. Evelyn had fallen asleep across another set of chairs and Annisa moved quietly not to wake her. She relocated to one of the stained glass windows and peeked out. On the other side of a pristine stretch of ground was a waterway with a bridge that led to another sleepy-looking hamlet. Annisa shivered as she looked at the lazily-moving mist that coated the water beneath the bridge and wound through the remnants of what appeared to be the pilings from an older bridge. She reached in her pocket for her worry stone, rubbing more smoothness onto its surface as she realized she couldn’t see anyone out there. She had heard footsteps, she was sure of it. “Ah!” she exclaimed, jumping at a touch.“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Evelyn had woken and had slipped next to Annisa, touching her unexpectedly.

Written as part of a continuing series for the Anonymous Legacy VisDare photo prompt.

Write Now! 29 March 2013 & The Daily Post: Other

Friday Fictioneers, 29 March 2013: One Mite, Pt. 6