Tag Archives: Sheila E. Tucker

Image of her I have this fleeting memory of her sitting on her bed, still and silent, as dawn’s soft sun fingered its way through the sheers. She was unaware that I stood in the doorway, for she was far away, staring out of the window and—what?—remembering him? planning an escape? asking herself why?     Continue reading “Image of her. A flash fiction by Sheila E. Tucker”