Morning. Milla had already enjoyed breakfast—homemade yogurt and blueberries from her garden—and was finishing her yoga. She rose from savasana and stood in front of the window to offer Namaste to her island home. The view from this top floor window as one of her favorites, looking out onto the beach and the crystal clear water and across the shallow bay to the rocks that shielded her from the worst of the ocean’s power. Every window had its own special view, but this was what Milla saw in her mind’s eye when she thought “Home.”
The sky was brilliant blue, with
only a few scattered white clouds. No storms in sight on the horizon. It might
be a day for rounding up the half dozen horses that roamed the island. She
always enjoyed their company and the soothing labor of grooming them. She could
ride and lead them around the island to stock up on fruits and vegetables ready
to be harvested.
Idly thinking about her plans,
Mills glanced down at the shore and flinched away from the window. There were
two kayaks dragged onto the sand. She crept to the side and peered out. No sign
of people. Damn. She dropped her towel and picked up her pistol by the door,
then moved down the hall on silent, bare feet.
Continued in part 2...
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Dogs in house
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Houdini, Brindle
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Music:
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Yo-Yo Ma, Cello
Suites (yes, again)
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Time writing:
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15 minutes
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July word
count:
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5,321
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