Jotting down the next things on her list, she put her pencil on the desk and looked at her expanding responsibilities.

The list of “To Do’s” seemed to grow with the morning sun, inching through the windows of her apartment. The warmth cascading freckles of glistening light across her complexion. She sits amongst the wooden desk chair painted blue, tapping her finger nails against the side of her tea cup. Tilting her head, she takes a deep breath as the corners of her mouth move up with her arms

Discover stories by Abigail Dorothy on Vocal. Welcome to my rollercoaster of writing, I strive to create pieces that are vulnerable, transparent and raw. I enjoy a type of writing where the endings have a turn of events, are pleasant and on occasion are disappointing.