The Summer Workshop

The invitation had arrived in her mailbox three weeks ago—an exclusive creative writing workshop at a remote estate in Vermont. Two weeks of intensive writing, mentorship from renowned authors, and a chance to finally finish her novel.

What the brochure hadn’t mentioned was him.

Arrival

The estate was everything the photographs had promised: rolling green hills, a Victorian mansion with wraparound porches, and the distant sound of a babbling brook. Claire pulled her suitcase from the rental car and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.

“Need help with that?”

She turned to find a man about her age, with kind eyes and an easy smile. He was carrying a leather messenger bag over one shoulder and a well-worn copy of Hemingway in his hand.

“I’m David,” he said, extending a hand. “Looks like we’ll be workshop-mates.”

Two Weeks

What followed was a whirlwind of late-night writing sessions, long walks through the forest paths, and conversations that stretched into the early hours of morning. They debated plot structure over coffee, traded manuscript pages by the fireplace, and slowly, inevitably, began to fall for each other.

But every summer must end. And as the final day approached, both of them faced a choice that neither had expected to make.

Sometimes the best stories are the ones we live.