Laurel-Rain Snow's Page

When the “For Sale” sign went up on the front lawn, Carly half-expected some kind of reaction from the neighbors – those former cohorts and gourmet book club participants – but also hoped that none of them responded to it at all. Sometimes she longed for the anonymity of a big city, where the neighbors kept to themselves and noticed nothing outside their immediate home and yard. Maybe this “non-reaction” wouldn’t have seemed so odd if the neighbors hadn’t been so “in their face” all through the… Continue

Finally deciding to confront the issue, she interrupted him as he sat there ponderously checking off incorrect responses on the page before him. “David, we should talk.” As soon as the words left her lips, she wished she could bite them back. His glance withered her with its ferocity. Now where did that come from?

“Are you sure you want to get into this now?”

But he had paused and looked up at her. Was that a good sign? She continued: “When else are we going to have the time – or be alone – so… Continue

Afterwards, Carly wouldn’t have been able to recall a single thing about the food or the book they’d discussed, or anything at all. She was going through the motions. Glancing around, she’d noticed nothing unusual about anyone else’s behavior, once they’d gotten through the first few minutes. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Could she have dreamed it, or fantasized it? She almost burst into laughter, but then restrained herself.

She felt on the verge of hysteria, teetering on a ledge.… Continue

By the time they began reviewing their book choice, thoroughly ensconced in the family room, Carly was feeling no pain. In fact, she was wondering why she hadn’t noticed before how wonderfully calming lots of drinks could be in social situations.

At one point, though, as if from outside her body, she heard her laughter sounding a bit too jovial, maybe even raucous. Or perhaps it was David’s glance in her direction one time too often that tipped her off. She set down the wine glass abruptly and… Continue

Carly Bennett Donovan drove through commuter traffic to her office downtown. Her last glance in the full-length mirror in her bathroom had reassured her that she looked as if she could face the day. Today would be another in a series of conflict-driven meetings with her clients, those she had served for the past ten years as a court mediator. Her previous career as a social worker had left her feeling frustrated and powerless, leading her to explore other options. She still wondered if that had… Continue