This is the opening of a downloadable short story that I wrote a few years ago. It’s never been published. I hope you like it.
The east wind had been blowing for days, and it was good to feel the warmth of the sun at last. Anne watched the tide push the water up river: it was high today, almost on to the path. And apart from the calls of birds, and the sound of the air pushing through the reeds, everything was quiet.
This was how Anne liked it. The tall reeds hid the big house in the distance, and she felt as if the world was made just for her. She loved the house, but it was so busy. People coming and going, lots of work being done – sometimes, she thought, just for the sake of it. She tried not to get involved, although of course there was plenty for her to do, and if she hung around, jobs would find her.
That was why she liked the Fen. The quiet paths through the reeds, the tangled roots of the trees by the river. The coots and the grebes; the geese and the swans. The secluded spots where she could just stand and look, as she was doing now, with nothing and no-one to disturb her.