Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Stories (250/0)
The Book of Names
Micah sat on a bench at the Battery, facing toward Fort Sumter. Waves lapped rhythmically against the seawall barricades that had stood for well over a century. The ocean was like glass this April day, with only the faintest of wind rippling across the water. The moss, hanging from massive trees that lined the pathways, swayed to the whisper of a breeze while the leaves rustled in response. Micah mused how much he loved spring in Charleston with its mild weather and abundance of blooming azaleas, magnolias, and dogwoods. All of these things, when combined, lent a calmness that betrayed the anxiousness he had felt ever since he had misplaced the old book that he always kept near to him.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Lavender & Mystery
There was a distinct, frosty chill in the fall evening as Abigail made her way to the small Italian restaurant called La Pasta. The rustic, multi-colored leaves whispered in the breeze, blowing and scattering across her path as her black heels clicked methodically with each step she took on the narrow sidewalk. Reaching up, she attempted to push back the loose wisps of russet-colored hair that flew about her face, but it was a futile effort. This evening, despite her best attempts to tame the thick, lustrous curls, her hair had a mind of its own, and there was no luck to be had with escaping the gusts of wind that lent it new life. She thought that she might resemble Medusa once she arrived at her destination, but alas, it was what it was. She wished she'd had the foresight to take a taxi in lieu of making the short walk to the restaurant. Perhaps if she had, she would not have looked like a mythological creature, waiting in the wings for her blind date’s arrival. She smiled. She hoped this date was made of sterner stuff and could endure the sight of her hair in wild disarray.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
A Rose By Any Other Name
Should I continue to wait for my blind date? Or should I bolt out of Garibaldi’s as fast as possible? I looked at my watch. It was eight thirty. It did not seem that my blind date, Atticus, would be joining me. Above me, the hum of the ceiling fan droned on repeatedly as I contemplated my choices. Impulsively, I made the decision to stay and enjoy dinner alone, especially since I'd already ordered a bottle of wine. I could use a glass of it for a variety of reasons, so this was an easy fix. The hell with Atticus.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Magic Window
Sophie loved to explore whenever she had a day off from school, and today she was making her way through the sparse forest, eager to find places she had yet to discover. Her best friend, Abby, had ditched her in favor of going shopping with her Mom today, but Sophie preferred trekking through the woods any day to picking out a new outfit in a crowded mall. She was most at home while romping through tangled brush in a forest or while doing anything outside.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Personification of Merlot
Zelda had revisited The Prose & Wine many times – eleven times to be exact – over the last four months. The motivation each time she visited was solely the opportunity to hear him read just one more time. She could not remember ever hearing lovelier recitations of any piece of classical work. She was confident that his voice, laced with a lilting, beautiful English accent, was derived from ancient times and a gift purely from the Gods. She did not know his real name, because everyone who came to hear the recitations knew him only as The Eloquent Englishman.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
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