| Author: | Elsie Snave | ISBN: | 1230000095849 |
| Publisher: | Elsie Snave | Publication: | January 2, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Elsie Snave |
| ISBN: | 1230000095849 |
| Publisher: | Elsie Snave |
| Publication: | January 2, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
What the hell is going on? Why is everything white? The last thing that I remember is that I was having a dream about Delaney, my daughter. Where did that dream go? I look around and see nothing. No lights, yet it's bright. No warmth, yet I am not cold. What is this place? Something happens. It’s like I have been transported somewhere. But where?
There is still nothing familiar to me here. I am now in a house that is completely foreign to me. The kitchen is nice though. Maybe Zane and I will own a kitchen like this one day. I see a letter on the fridge addressed to me. After reading it I look out the window to see where it has instructed me to go. I see two people I recognize and two people I don't. I’m comfortable enough with the two I do know so I make my way outside.
I should have stayed inside. I should have never left Washington D.C. As a matter of fact, I should have never left New York. None of this would have happened if I had said no to the food conference. Now my world has fallen apart and I am stuck in this place they call the in-between. Where is the in-between anyway? In between the kitchen and the living room? How about in between Paris and Africa? In between the grass and hell...yeah that seems about right. Hell, a hell I am deserving of.
What the hell is going on? Why is everything white? The last thing that I remember is that I was having a dream about Delaney, my daughter. Where did that dream go? I look around and see nothing. No lights, yet it's bright. No warmth, yet I am not cold. What is this place? Something happens. It’s like I have been transported somewhere. But where?
There is still nothing familiar to me here. I am now in a house that is completely foreign to me. The kitchen is nice though. Maybe Zane and I will own a kitchen like this one day. I see a letter on the fridge addressed to me. After reading it I look out the window to see where it has instructed me to go. I see two people I recognize and two people I don't. I’m comfortable enough with the two I do know so I make my way outside.
I should have stayed inside. I should have never left Washington D.C. As a matter of fact, I should have never left New York. None of this would have happened if I had said no to the food conference. Now my world has fallen apart and I am stuck in this place they call the in-between. Where is the in-between anyway? In between the kitchen and the living room? How about in between Paris and Africa? In between the grass and hell...yeah that seems about right. Hell, a hell I am deserving of.
