Kari Kilgore 
Reflections 

A beloved family home, abandoned and broken.

A so-called adult life, not much better off.

Jessica’s hopes of finding her joy fade as soon as she steps through the door.

Sometimes fear of staying the same hits harder than fear of the unknown.

Can facing her fears, and her memories, make Jessica’s life right at last?

An excerpt from Reflections:
Jessica’s childhood rose all around her.
Every cautious step into the darkness sent her disappointing present falling away from her mind, heart, and body. Colors brighter, sounds more harmonious, smells and tastes so much sweeter. All the choices and decisions of her life still ahead, all wide open and joyful with possibility.
Her rational adult mind longed to reject those memories as unrealistic. Nothing but wistful nostalgia. Typical symptoms of a recent divorce, turning forty, and needing to believe everything was better in days gone by.
The truth was Jessica’s childhood had been pretty damn good. It was the grownup part she wasn’t all that great at.
She jumped and nearly screamed when her fingertips brushed a rough, scratchy surface. Before her imagination could conjure a broad-shouldered monster blocking her way, she turned the phone’s flashlight on.
Visual input only made things worse for a few seconds.