Twenty Years Ago, I Wrote This

I remember that I printed it in my high school's library and somehow forgot and left a copy in the printer.  The librarian found it and brought it to me, and told me that she was very impressed with my writing.  At the time I was very into fairies and urban fantasy.  I didn't edit this for grammar, although I wanted to.


     Shadow of a woman against the crumbling garden wall.

     Whisper of long skirts through the tall grass.  The budding roses swayed and bowed gently, as if someone were passing by.  The shadow, moving of its own accord, came and went with the movement of clouds across the sun.

     And in the darkness at the edge of the yard, where the wood began, a man stood, indistinct int he flickering sunlight that fell between the leaves.  He wore an odd costume:  a laced shirt with blowsy sleeves, a tunic-like vest, a short green cloak.  His hair was glossy black as a raven's wing, and held back from his think face by a crimson ribbon.  He stood so still that he seemed a part of the trees, of the forest;  a lean shadow in green and brown.  Sorrow was starkly evident in his green eyes.

     After a moment, the sound of a truck passing on the main road shattered the sleepy stillness of the early spring afternoon, and the yard was deserted once more...except for the shadow of a woman against the back wall of the old house.

     Waiting.