Write on Edge used two fabulous photos as writing prompts for Red Writing Hood this week. I chose this pic for Maggie to run with, literally.
If you are interested in more of their story, you can read about Cassie in R.S.V.P. & Kick Ass Shoes and Maggie in Getting There & Home, and all four women in Time to Tell.
This takes place in the year before Maggie returns to her friends.
Maggie perched on the edge of the bed, bent over, and laced up her running shoes.
"Margaret, come back to bed." Jack always used her whole name when he knew he was losing.
Glancing over her shoulder, her body pleaded with her to climb back in, but her mind was in control now. As intoxicating, blissfully mind-numbing as Jack's touch was, she needed air.
She made a break for it and slipped out of the room, leaving Jack chuckling to himself.
As the doorman opened the hotel's door, Maggie gasped at the cool wet air. Zipping her vest up, she pushed off and ran into the saturated early morning. Globes of light dotted the street and reflected on the wet concrete below. She was thankful the night's street lamps were still on to light her way.
She didn't want to think where she was going; only wanted to push off, propel forward, and never look back. She had been running like this for months, too many months. This weekend, she was supposed to be meeting her friends at the beach house.
How the hell am I going to explain Jack?!
She had accepted the first assignment that came her way after Grams died. She had taken care of Grams' immediate affairs, but everything else she left behind. She left the house she had grown up in, while her grandmother raised her, their beloved beach house that they spent every chance they could get in, and her friends.
They would have been right there for her, if she'd asked. When Lauren and Cassie had to go back to
But, when the assignment came in, she snatched it up, catching the first flight to
Before Grams, she loved that spark like it was universal among humanity, showing how connected everyone is, regardless of circumstance. After Grams, she was hoping to hold on to the spark like a lifeline to keep her moving forward.
She definitely found her lifeline; she just didn't know she would find it in another photographer, let alone an old colleague, Jack.
In her head, she could hear Jack calling her back to the room and somewhere out in the mist, she could hear her friends calling, asking her to come home. Not ready yet to answer either call, she ran faster, listening only to the slight splash as her feet landed on the wet ground and the squish of her shoes as she pushed off again. This weekend would come too fast, too soon. Maggie ran.