All posts tagged: psychiatrist

Fiction Friday: Deleted Scene

By Leslie Lindsay After careful review from my critique partner, this scene won’t be making the cut for my novel-in-progress, sad as that is… My repsonse:  “I may have banged this out to understand my character’s story better.”  Remember, even if the writing’s good, it doesn’t always have a place in your current story.  So, I am saying good-bye to this piece but thought I’d at least give it a chance to be seen.  Remember, this is original work.  No part may be reproduced without consent from the author.  Thank you.  Annie 31 years ago Woodstock, GA          “At five years old, I had long blonde hair, big blue eyes and was referred to as precocious.  It was summer.  The kitchen of my childhood home was blue, like the taste of muffins.  An aloe vera plant grew in the windowsill, green smooth and slick.  Cutlery clanged, filling the air with sparkly bursts of color.         “Do it again!” I begged mom bouncing in my chair at the table.         “Do what?” My mother turned slowly from the Whirlpool …

Fiction Friday: Back to the Beginning. Annie & Synesthesia

By Leslie Lindsay I may have finished the manuscript, but now I am going back in and adding–well–color, depth, bringing the darn thing alive.  Here’s a flashback which stands as a prologue (for now), and gives some glimpse into Annie’s inner mind.  Annie 18 years ago Senior Year “With the school day now behind me, I pace in front of the post office, another job I couldn’t possibly do.  Too many numbers and letters.  They would all be screaming at me in color.  My planner is filled with assignments—busy-work, mostly—they try to keep us seniors engaged in the spring time.  Spring Fever, they call it.  I’m on to their game.  A gentle breeze floats past, all tangerine swirls and warm vanilla.  I inhale deeply, expecting the smell of an orange sickle.  Nothing.  This time, I see only the breeze.  Next to the post office is Dr. Frick’s office.  A hard, splintery name.  Frick.  As in “what the frick is this about?”  Her voice is gritty and rumbling, her face worn.  She looks like a frick.  …