The Dearly Departed

Brigid hiked her skirt with one hand and carried the pail of milk with the other as she trudged up the hill to the house. Himself will be wantin' the té when she got there, if she was any judge. Good thing she had half a cake from last night. Wouldn't be long til sundown when she could finish her mending by the fire while her Papa smoked his pipe and tattled about the doings of the men at the pub. ~click to read more...

At Last

He came into the bedroom and found her there just fresh from the bath, the water droplets still dripping from her chin, her elbows and running slowly down her thigh. She brought the towel to her face and dabbed away the wetness while staring into his face as he watched her intently.