I have treasured a piece of paper with these words on it for years and years. My very first attempt at fiction writing. Never did finish it.
Love is like a rainbow. Its colours are like emotions, some soft, others rich. Annabelle felt as if a rainbow, with all of its beautiful changing colours, was washing through her at that very moment. She stood on the edge of the cliff, the tall, swaying grass the only thing holding her back from falling into the cascading, blue waters far below. She was so in love, she felt as if she could soar right up into the never-ending skies, and frolic in the pillows of swirling, snow-white clouds.
His name was James. She had only known him for two days; but already she knew that he was the one. The only true love that she would ever know. Annabelle had met him at the little, country train station. A station where goodbyes and hellos seemed to mean more because of the romantic atmosphere. Baskets of jasmine hung in old fashioned, wrought iron baskets. Huge, trailing ferns and exquisite roses grew over the white picket fences, whilst the ticket office consisted of a couple of small, rustic cabins. The scent was heavenly, and many a marriage had occurred because of Clareville Station. Even the name sounded dreamy, or so Annabelle thought.
Two days ago. She had worn her favourite strawberry pink summer dress for the first time. Had she secretly known that something beautiful was about to unfold? Her dear old father had just spent two wonderful weeks with her. Two weeks blessed with love and memories. Annabelle had promised to …
image and words © 1999 – present Liana Wendy Howarth