Winnie Fox was the youngest of the Fox sisters and an aspiring novelist. She believed books were her friends along with the fictional characters that existed within it.
However this time, Winnie seemed to be stuck in what was called; a "Writer's Bl...
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Her pencil repeatedly tapped on the parchment. She blew the light strand of her hair from her face, her blanket laid heavy on her lap as the warm wind entered her room and brushed her exposed skin from her nightgown.
The old parchment paper laid in front of her on her desk, taunting her after she spent hours staring at it.
Nothing.
There was nothing she could think of as she continued to stare at it as if it would set on fire at any moment. She'd been sitting at her writing table before the sun had even risen, and still she'd come up with nothing!
Winifred— or as everyone knew her; Winnie, refused to believe she had found herself in a bit of a predicament. One they called it a 'writer's block'. Words after words written on the paper until dissatisfaction hit her from behind and crossed it off, and when her brain could no longer produce any ideas, a plot perhaps or a character, Winnie threw the pencil at the wall as she let out a sigh of frustration.
"Winnie, sister— Oh!" Fanny jumped the moment the pencil hit the wall next to the door and landed on the floor. "You could've hit me!" The redhead tutted, her hands on her hips as she walked in her sister's room. Her nose scrunched at the sight of her sister still in her night dress. "And you're not even dressed for the day! Mr. Smales are coming in a few moments and you're not ready yet."
The brunette groaned. She stood up from her seat and fell on her bed, landing on her back with a slight bounce. "Do I have to?" Winnie whined. "He's here for Belle, is he not?"
"Yes, but I need your help in having her stay in place at least until he has arrived." Fanny moved to sit next to her, moving pieces of Winnie's hair from her face. The silky feeling of her hair was something to envy, and it wasn't just her hair, but her whole person. Out of three daughters of the governor, Winnie was the fairest of them all.
Maybe it was because of her youth— her being the youngest making it an advantage for men to pursue her first than her sisters. Fanny remembered the day when suitors would come knocking at their door with the intention to have her little sister's hand in marriage, and she was only 19.
Then the beautiful day had come, one that Fanny would describe as ethereal or maybe ephemeral, she had bid Winnie goodbye as the latter began a new chapter in her adulthood. She'd kept the letters from her and always read them before bed, imagining what her life would be like to live in Winnie's shoes. Sure there was a small tinge of jealousy, but it submerged when the last letter from her had described the most unfortunate thing that had happened.
From then on, her sister's story had ended rather tragically and Winnie had returned to their home looking sullen, and dressed in black head to toe.
Nevertheless, Winnie had the most experience when it comes to suitors and she desperately needed her help.
