It’s been 20 years since Virginia stepped through the battered door to her childhood home. Her mother died and the house became hers, along with a cryptic handwritten note left behind.
‘Virginia, you will love again the stranger who was your self but you must live in the house where you began.’
Six months later and the note still confounds her.
Each day, Virginia attempts to write at her mother’s desk, but no words come. It’s been two years of writer’s block hell.
After another sleepless night, she sits at the desk. Searching through drawers, she finds a leather portfolio and opens it. A sheaf of handwritten pages spill out. Her pages, notes from the first novel she attempted to write at 15. She begins to read and her words come alive on the page. And there, in that moment, she understands the note.
Author’s Note: I managed 144…
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