Blood Upon The Rose

[SimonW]

Chapter 1: Laura Channing

The road was sleek with afternoon rain upon the highway road leading into the once hamlet settlement town of Yarndervale.
The open plains gave way to a canopy of bunched up olden oaks that wound into a valley forestry. It was a solitary careening path.
Within her old Sedan she had inherited from her late father, Laura Channing was taking it slow upon the wet roadside. Not that there was much traffic as she had swerved off the highway track five miles back. With a carefree attitude of sobering clarity, the thirty six year old woman was accustomed to this road. She had recalled it had been about five years ago when she had traversed back to her childhood town for her mother’s funeral. It was a sad homecoming but Laura had made the best of it as she knew her mother had wanted her to.
Shaking her head lightly, the somber expression made her thin lips purse seriously and Laura’s determined resolve made her focus upon the winding road ahead of herself. Laura shifted the driving gears in her sedan automatically and allowed her foot to put on a little more pressure on the gas pedal of her car whilst barely going past the sixty margin of her speedometer.
Unconsciously, Laura let her eyes drift down towards the third finger of her right hand, a millisecond of concentration lost as she noticed the faint ring mark upon the bare finger until she regained her bearings as her hands turned the wheel of her car and took notice of the road once more ahead of her.

( to be continued… )

 

[SimonW]

She wears a ring on her baby finger?

Have fixed it.

( chapter 1, part 2… )

The trail marked road curved and twisted until the canopy of trees opened up after another further quarter mile.
The idyllic landscape was still rough hewn but the township led from the forest to the opening valley of Yarndervale.
The thin road crested over a small hill that transitioned into a proper road of tarmac and cement with a display billboard displaying an old placard of greetings to whomever would traverse to the old town.
It was a surreal feeling of familiarity for Laura Channing. She eased her car’s speed by applying pressure slightly upon her brake pedal. As the car slowed down to a more reasonable forty kilometres, she bypassed the welcome sign with a passive grimace. In that moment, Laura felt a twinge of regret, possibly for troubles within her own mind of the last time she had seen that all too familiar sight as she crested over the edge of the forest to the encompassing canopy of rollicking hills and towards the village in the vast valley before her.

( to be continued… )

 

[SimonW]

What is it that the village encompasses?

Sorry, fixed it.

( chapter 1, part 3… )

The downward slope of a drive did not deter the determined but steady descent as Laura Channing felt the jostling motion of her car.
It was not a long and arduous ride into the main road of her childhood town of Yarndervale. Even the faded welcome sign of the border had not changed, at least, maybe more degraded with age as the road eased into the valley with a straight track as asphalt faded into the homely depiction of faded dirt and cement. The hustle of modern day bustle eased out of Laura Channing and her shoulders relaxed as she dropped her speed to a more reasonable twenty miles an hour as she entered past the welcome sign into the township.
With this feeling of familiarity, Laura Channing bypassed the local park and main road through the town, knowing exactly where she needed to go, past the elementary schoolhouse and the local market/business street in the main lane that was adjacent several side streets that were lined with the houses and lodging buildings.
Continuing through the main road, Laura drove at a steady pace, her relaxed driving mixed with past years of remembrance from her youth. Flashes of laughter and merriment, the carefree days of Spring and Summer, running across the main roadside curbs and streets of Yarndervale.

( to be continued… )

 

[Copperfox]

I think I see an ethnic hint here. No town is likely to be named after "yarn" in the knitting sense. But in Germanic tongues, "yarn" means IRON. So, does the town in your story have a German populations?

 

[SimonW]

I think I see an ethnic hint here. No town is likely to be named after "yarn" in the knitting sense. But in Germanic tongues, "yarn" means IRON. So, does the town in your story have a German populations?

Nope, nice thought though. Just a made up name that stroke my fancy.


( chapter 1, part 4… )

Laura revelled with this blissful feeling, taking a side street past the Main Street stores that led down a lane as the stores and houses eased into a more natural looking road into a more suburban setting on the outskirt fringes of the town.
It was a ten minute drive down the winding road before Laura Channing finally eased her car to a stop outside a sidewalk that depicted a white picketed fenced off house that appeared to look abandoned at a first glance.
But the front garden of this house thrived, the flower patches in bloom as Laura turned her car off and got out to have a better look at the front garden of her childhood home.
The greenery was immaculate and looked still in fine bloom as the Summer roses blossomed in the sunlight.
With the feeling of determined familiarity washing through her, Laura took hold of her keys within her hand and started walking up the primrose path she knew all too well.

( to be continued… )