I have stories in two of the upcoming anthologies from Centum Press … One Hundred Voices Volume III and One Hundred Tails which is animal themed. I am honored and excited to have been chosen for publication with this company not one but three times!
It was just before 6am when Georgia stepped outside. The pale early morning sky had enough night to look more grey than black. A fresh wind was blowing from the southwest causing the treetops to dance. There was a hint of chill in the early July air and this thought ran through her mind, “sleeping porch weather”. This brought back childhood memories of sleeping on the breezeway that connected their house to the garage. Not a true ‘sleeping porch’ in old South standards, but a screened in area that was the next best thing.
The cement floor of the breezeway was cool underfoot and at this hour outside air was cooler than inside. There was something about using the AC that could never really equalize temps between inside and outside at this time of early morning. The humidity had not set in for the day and the night air was cool. Georgia felt her damp hair stick to the back of her neck and her lightweight cotton gown clung to hips, thighs, and other moist places. She shivered as the cool morning air-dried her sleep-dampened skin. In a short while the humidity level would equal the air temp and this moment of pleasure would disappear with the coming dawn.
At this moment, Georgia decided that the screened in sun room at the back of the house would become her sleeping porch. Being on the southwest corner it caught the perfect nighttime breeze. This would be her sacred space and an option when sleep eluded her in the house … the bedroom was a torture chamber most of the time. Too many memories … too many ghosts hiding in the corners lurking in the shadows. Ghosts who came out and danced on the inside of her eyelids keeping sleep at bay. At times they didn’t show themselves, yet came flooding into her brain after midnight making sleep impossible for the rest of the night.
A sleeping porch would be Georgia’s ghost catcher … ghost chaser. No walls to cower in the corners and creep out to ruin her sleep. Screen walls would filter out the ghosts when they tried to enter her thoughts. Screen walls that would allow cool breezes to blow away the bad things trying to catch her … her memories … her life. Screen walls … her safety net.
With that decision made, she went inside and decided today would be a full Southern breakfast morning … a country breakfast from her childhood rather than the granola and yogurt she usually at most mornings. During the summer everyone woke at different times and fended for themselves in the morning.
Not wanting to wake anyone just yet, she quietly started coffee brewing, bacon frying and hand cut thick slices of bread ready to pan toast in a combination of bacon drippings and sweet cream butter. As she worked her stomach grumbled appreciatively and in anticipation of breakfast. She knew bacon would wake the sleepy heads and they could let her know how they wanted their eggs … or no eggs when they stumbled in looking for bacon.
Georgia sensed his presence before she felt the feather light kiss on the back of her neck. He pulled her close and asked if there was a special occasion for a full breakfast in the middle of the week. She smiled and turned to kiss him full on the mouth saying, “Nope!”
“You know,” Scott said, “I think we need to turn the sun room into a sleeping porch.”
Snuggling close under his chin, Georgia replied, “You have been sleep walking in my mind again!” No further discussion was needed.
Copyright © 2016 Annie
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie