Well, I really like to write... and I've written several short stories. So, I thought I'd try posting one Just to see if anyone enjoys it If you want, I can post more. So, here's what I consider one of my best - It's historical fiction based on the Salem Witchcraft Trials. If you want to know, most of the characters (I believe all) really lived and the basic instances really happened. If you have any questions, I'm happy to answer. Thanks for reading
Warning: (If this is really necessary... I think the rules said just to give a basic run down of how graphic it would be) There isn't really violence. No fighting. A great deal of mental stress (if you know the time period - it makes sense), references to and descriptions of hangings. I don't do graphic violence, though, so it's not like there's gore. No language. The main character is married and has children, but it's not like I have any bad scenes or even any talk about that sort of stuff. As for questionable theology - it is about people suspecting people of witchcraft, but there is no actual witchcraft involved. Rest at ease. So, please enjoy
Salem Witchcraft Trials:
[I]The sweet essence of a sea breeze defined New England. No one could forget such gentle scent, nor the sensation of the wind’s fingers caressing touch. Beneath the ocean air one could detect the smell of overturned earth, which hovered over the fields. The crops and indentured servants made up the farms. Men who had been desperate to reach the New World sold themselves into this world, breaking their backs over work they would never receive a reward for. At the end of seven years they might be granted freedom and a piece of land for there own. Of course, that would only be with a little luck. A young woman sat in the lose, worked earth, running her fingers through the dirt. Her eyes closed as she breathed deep, soaking in the sensation of life. Luck had never been at her side. Only months before her father had grown sick of his own lack of fortune and had ended his misery. Her mother had taken the chance to marry again when it came, and now the deceased innkeeper’s daughter would never receive a penny of what her father had left behind. It all belonged to her new stepfather. Then again, after seventeen years of life she had grown quite accustomed to luck’s resentment towards her. She believed it had been passed down to her from her father. Since neither parents had ever had much time for her between her eight siblings. This dull life had simply become natural.
“Do you believe what the men of God say, Daniel?â€