Snippets: You Can Never Go Home Again

I know, I could do Six Sentence Sunday, but I always feel guilty that I can't read everyone's sentences! And there's always the danger of wandering into a 6Sunday post that's, how shall we say, risque? To skip the guilt and erotica I'm posting a snippet just for fun, just for you, from this week's WIP.

This week I started the rough draft of JANE'S SHADOW:

Sam turned on the lights and it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. His old couch was here, the one they’d rescued before Hurricane Jessica drove him to find a new apartment, and ultimately rent a room in Sam’s house. The ancient wooden table sat in the breakfast nook. There was a scratch where he’d thrown a knife when they fought over her fiancée one night.

“Mac?”

“I feel like a divorcee coming to see the ex. All that’s missing are the kids.”

“You left the couch in Alabama. Miss Azalea called and asked me to pick it up so she could get the new renters moved in. Do you want it back?”

Mac shook his head. “No. It’s… I have a new one. It’s just strange. I know the furniture, but not the house. Not quite déjà vu, but very surreal.” The furniture was wrong in the apartment. In the old plantation house in Alabama everything had fit. Sam’s lacey curtains and the old brass bed, even the ancient wooden armoire, they had all fit together there.

Here the apartment walls were a glaring white even in the dim lamp light, the carpet was stiff and cheap. There was a sense of despair and desperation, it felt like a refugee camp.

He watched Sam tuck her shoes away, close the curtains on the balcony window, and move around the house. “You aren’t happy here.”

Image courtesy of and copyright to Carita (Tihku) on Deviant Art.