Copyright © 2014 Lauren Hallstrom
Last updated November 8, 2014
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Copyright © 2013 by Lauren Hallstrom. Do not reproduce / copy and paste this excerpt without the permission of the author.
Dreamweaver by Lauren Hallstrom, page 16:
The old man walked along the path that was blanketed with fallen leaves. The snow had mostly melted, but it had moistened the leaves, turning the red- and yellow-speckled things into a soggy mess.
A cool breeze blew across his weathered face and caressed the folds of his large jacket. One penny remained in the shadowy confines of his coat pocket, waiting to see the brilliant light of day.
All the rest had found themselves on the wooden floor of the old dance studio or on the empty seat of the merry-go-round. Those pennies had surely changed lives.
The lone penny shifted inside the pocket, awaiting the call of the old man.
Surrounding trees watched his progress along the path, and the atmosphere was heavy and ominous. The old man did not notice. The shadows grew and lengthened as the sun lowered itself over the mountains and the area went quiet.
He wasn’t aware when the penny slipped out of his pocket and hit the ground with a ping! He didn’t notice it roll along the slabs of stone on the edge of the dirt pathway.
The penny hit a crack in the stone and came to an abrupt stop. The tails side faced up. The man had no idea, and the sense of foreboding that arose in the air did not warn him of what was to come.
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