She longed to close her eyes again, but this time for a long, restful sleep. With the thoughts of her comforting daydreams shattered by the end-day siren, her mind now focused on getting back to her cozy den, getting out of these clothes, and diving into the sea of blankets adorning her bed. The rough material of her jumpsuit scratched the insides of her sweaty thighs and the deep cups of her underarms. You'd think I'd be used to this by now! she thought to herself as she wriggled her small body from side to side to loosen her work gear off her shoulders. She had been coughing up blood the last few days. Each inhalation covered the back of her throat with grit. Most of the time, her breaths were filled with dirt and dust and particles of ground-up rock. She tried desperately to inhale deeply and eliminate the ash smell, but it was even a conscious effort just to breathe in the slightest amount of air and feel satisfied.
The smell of coal dust from her sleeve wafted into her nostrils. Ember dropped her pick-axe to her side and wiped the crown of tiny salt droplets from her forehead with the back of her dirty hand. She opened her eyes to the darkness surrounding her and focused on the line of light coming from the lantern beside her. Their iridescent wings catching the thin rays of light from the sun as it melts its way off the horizon, moving in and out and back and forth against that gray and white smelling wind.īefore Ember could peacefully escape into another daydream memory, the siren sounded, rousing her from her thoughts of Home, signifying the end of yet another workday in the Mines. She knew if she squeezed her eyes a little tighter the colorful light orbs that flickered behind her closed lids would transform into the hundreds of butterflies flitting about the garden in her courtyard. The smell that indicates the clouds are just heavy enough to burst open their icy insides. A smell that reeks of wetness in the air and ice patches on the ground and sloshing half-frozen dirt between her toes. PayPal -or- credit card -or- Apple iBookstore BN.com Kindle Kobo BooksĮmber knew that if she closed her eyes long enough, she could feel the warm sun beating down on her face, its heat intermingled with the frosty nip of a breeze that kissed the pointed tips of her ears.Īnd if she tried very hard, she could smell that scent again - the smell like white and gray- if color had an aroma. She is a fed up teenage Coal Elf with a big ashy chip on her shoulder. Ember Skye is not another spell casting wizard or vampire groupie.
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