Wednesday, June 25, 2003
It was well after midnight, and her eyes were slowly drooping from lack of sleep. A stray wisp of ebony hair fell over her slender shoulder, draped in a flordalise shawl, and she absently brushed it away. Through the window in front of her she saw the vast coutyard of her manor house, the beautiful cyprus trees, the well-trimmed hedges, the assortment of garden lamps shimmering in the misty night air. From her lofty tower room, Rebecca Evening could see almost all of her land. It amazed her that she was in charge of such a large estate. Only a few years ago, when she was still a journalist in New York City, a large manor such as this would of seemed fantastic, unreal. Scrapping together rent, living from pay check to pay check seemed more realistic, more ordinary. When her aunt passed, that was when her life had changed. That is when she recieved the summons...
