Terra Firma

She scrambled up the last few yards, planting her boot in the dirt to gain a slight purchase with every step. The ground was loose here; not rocky or sandy, but soft clay, slippery and treacherous. It had slid recently, and it could slide again at any moment; she balanced her desire to move quickly with the need to test each step before making the next.

At last she reached a small ledge, just large enough to feel comfortable, and allowed herself to rest. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked out over the valley and appreciated the feel of firm, unyielding earth beneath her feet.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Antiqued brass maille, lampwork by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Sea Foam

The waves came in like wild horses, pawing the sand, snorting and tossing their heads, their manes and tails flying in the breeze. Alison closed her eyes and felt them all around her, prancing, dancing, wild and free.

She was swept up onto the back of a pure white beast; she shivered and trembled uncontrollably as the water swirled around her feet and withdrew, leaving her suddenly bereft and buried to her ankles. Before she could mourn, a new wave came in and carried her away again; it left her buried deeper, and then deeper again.

How long could she stand there before she disappeared entirely?

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, sterling silver, Swarovski crystals and pearls. Hand fabricated.

Splash

She knew she shouldn't, but that made it all the harder to resist. He was asleep; asleep on a raft in the middle of the lake. She had no idea where he'd come from; she'd never seen him before. She should simply swim away and leave him to his slumbers; she tried mightily to resist. She even swam off twice, but she came back each time.

He was such a tempting target.

He looked like a nice guy, actually; not too good looking, but not unattractive, either; not the sort who looked as if he would take himself too seriously and get really mad. But still. At the very least, it would be a rude thing to do. Mean, almost. He was sleeping so peacefully; what right she to wake him?

Regretfully, her better nature won out. She turned to leave for the last time, and found herself the recipient of a mighty splash. Drenched and grinning, she defended herself.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, 3mm amethyst. Hand fabricated.

Red Hot Mama

Cassie would never do it, of course, but it was fun to think about it. What if she did wear red lace under her jeans and T-shirt? Would the earth stop spinning? No, indeedy. No one would know except her; why was it so unthinkable to wear something so pretty and girly?

Resolutely, she closed the catalog and sighed. She opened it just a little bit, just enough to see those red lace undies one more time. Cowgirl pants, they were not. No way, no how. Likely, they'd ride up and pinch; goodness only knew where they'd get stuck after an hour or two on horseback. They were not practical; nope, not practical at all. Not her sort of thing.

With a sly grin, Cassie pulled her credit card out of her wallet, picked up the phone and dialed.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Gold-filled, brass, and copper chain maille. Lampwork by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Grab the brass ring

Serena had never believed in luck. Good fortune was made, not stumbled upon. She never read her horoscope, and was the only person she knew who liked fortune cookies for the taste. When other girls plucked the petals off daisies and were delighted or horrified by the turnout, Serena had always laughed.

So why was she suddenly looking for omens?

She'd gone as silly as any love-struck teenager, and she didn't like it one little bit. She'd lost her confidence, and she had no clue how to get it back.

What a ridiculous merry-go-round the world had become; she was more than ready to get off.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Brass Filigree, folded and soldered. Hand fabricated.