Current writing project excerpt

“Welcome,” said the frail creaky woman on the porch. She rocked back and forth on the old-fashioned wooden rocking chair. I could see the bluish tint to her hair and the frail bones of her wrist. As she rocked the boards on the porch creaked. 

I opened the gate and walked through, sighing. I should have known. When I looked behind me, I couldn’t see the …