“Gazing out over the water meadow and the reeds blowing in the gentle breeze, she picked up her brush. Dipping the brush into the water in her jar and then into a tiny cake of paint, she passed swift brushstrokes over the page filling in light and shadows on the face she had sketched. She glanced back at Philip under lowered lashes.”
Excerpt From: Dee Harper Lewis. A Misalliance with Love.
DEE HARPER LEWIS 