By Rachelle Reese
“The Bones of the Forest” by Rachelle Reese. Copyright © 2006 by Rachelle Reese
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Late July – not sure of the date and can’t look at my calendar
I was angry when the power went off at quarter after four. I’m anxious to be finished and rejoin the world I exiled myself from three months ago so I could finish this novel. The novel is close – so close I can taste the closing words on my tongue. Bittersweet, the way I like them.
Amanda flipped through the pages of the red leather-bound journal, looking for a name, a year. She found nothing. She had found the book and two nice ink pens under a floorboard in the crumbling house near the edge of the property her parents had bought last year. Her father had gotten a job in the mines nearby and they were hoping for a fresh start away from the addicted city. That was what her father called all cities. He had been raised in the country and hated the traffic and the rude neighbors honking their horns and then smiling their fake smiles at each other over four-foot fences. Hated the identical houses that stretched endlessly side-by-side with exactly twenty feet between them. Hated the mind-numbing, vitamin water that flowed from every drinking water tap. So when scientists discovered that the tiff rock in the Undiscovered Foothills could be ground and processed to create an anti-anxiety medicine, her father was one of the first to sign up.