Karl had just finished checking out a customer when his cell phone dinged with a message. He waited until he was in his office in the back before checking his phone. It was from his mom, Judy.
As she trudged down the alley, Cenessa saw a small wooden box. It looked out of place among the cardboard boxes stacked beside the door that led into the back of her parent’s grocery store. The box was a little bigger than the size of her palm and looked to be made of a dark wood.
*In continuing with the idea of practicing my short story writing, here is a new one for this week’s blog. This one has a little back story to it. There seems to be an underlying theme in my Artist Way class that consists of horses. Either fellow participants are good at capturing those creatures on paper or had a horse of some sort in their childhood. (Stick horses count!). As for me, the closest I come is my next novel, Burned on Sunday due out March 2019, is set in 1849 in a town in Colorado. Being that time period, horses were the most common way to get around. Anyway, enjoy!