Visiting Darkness
Celeste Prater
Copyright © 2020 Celeste Prater
All rights reserved
First Edition
NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING
320 Broad Street
Red Bank, NJ 07701
First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2020
ISBN 978-1-64801-059-0 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64801-060-6 (Digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
To my current fans traveling with me into a new genre and to those new to my writing, I send a resounding thank you for taking a chance and picking up this book. Hugs!
Chapter 1
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Hands gripping the countertop and stare fixed inside the half-filled sink, Mary tracked the outward spreading ripples marring the water’s surface.
Just as well, she thought. It skewed the features, which sat fine by her. The perfect disturbance made it much easier to forget obvious dark circles under tired blue eyes, pale complexion, and unruly eyebrows appearing as upside-down smiles no matter how artful the pluck.
A sigh of building resignation left her throat while pushing aside the bangs sticking to her forehead, happy at least the deep-brown hair showed no sign of gray, yet morose it wasn’t as shiny anymore. Neither was the length. She lopped it off four years ago in a convincing tirade to increase efficiency.
“Yeah, a better word than lazy any day of the week,” she muttered.
Why bother styling when she had no plans to slap on any makeup. This was who she was now, nothing like before. Sharp throbs stabbing the base of her skull started up again.
Startled at the sound of the sugar bowl toppling over—again, she twisted to catch whichever little monster disobeyed the adamant request to leave it the hell alone. A curse stung her tongue as her flabby gut knocked over freshly poured coffee and swept a pretty dishtowel her mother sent last spring to the floor. Disgust gurgled in her chest as the brown liquid soaked into pristine yellow material. Sadness sunk in deep. It was the last of the set not falling victim to jelly stains, ketchup, or grubby little fingers.
Damn. Why is everything around me turning so ugly?
Sight of thick thighs and fat knees above the mess ranked a sincere apology to her former lean body trapped inside. Yet nine years and three kids later, she considered the extra padding as protective gear. The layers crept up on her unsuspecting form during each pregnancy and refused to let go after every birth. She shrugged, unable to muster strength enough to give a rat’s ass. At least it made her boobs look bigger.
Gotta find the good in the bad, right?
A derisive snort scratched through her throat.
Yeah, right. Gravity’s laughing its ass off right about now. Keep deluding yourself. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
She reached up and tightened her bra straps.
A
