I was inspired through reading Gone With The Wind (again) to write a piece from that period. I'm not particularly good at romance so add whatever you think will make the story interesting :) First story of mine that is open to anyone :)
It was one of those lazy July twilight, when everything moved in slow motion after a long and dusty day. The lone magnolia stood by the gate, offering its shade and fragrance to passersby; and the old swing creaked as Blanche settled herself there. She smiled at the thought of how comely she looks as she tucked her long legs under the hem of her new cornflower blue dress. Looking around her patch of a garden with pride, she swung herself higher and higher until she reached a height that would’ve been deemed indecent.
She stopped swinging as the sound of a worn, tired pair of boots came closer. Heart thudding, she smoothed her skirts and tried to make her hair presentable. Thank God she had on her new dress, everything else were so shabby. Could it be Andrew, after all this time? His name had been in the casualty list more than a year ago, with a heart-searing “Missing - believed killed” next to it. But being Blanche, she never let herself believe this. In her heart, Andrew was alive. He can’t be dead; Andrew was too clever, too handsome to be killed in battle, to be wasted. The steps were louder now, closer. Oh, please, Blanche thought, please let it be him! She sent her most-used prayer to God once again. Please God, let it be him!
Blanche’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the mass of tangled dark curls upon the head of the owner of the footsteps. There was only one person with curls like that, curls so full of life, curls so out of control. She was filled with a crazy urge to laugh, to yell out Andrew’s name, even though all she saw was his hair. But it must be him! Who else could it be? She deliberately pushed from her mind all those other times when she was mistaken, when her hopes were crushed. It must be him this time! It had to be!