Today Simon Larter revealed who wrote which piece in our experiment in voice. Check it out at his blog by clicking here. Seems like most of you got it right! Additional thoughts are always welcome.

I had a few requests to post my piece on my blog, so here you go. Remember, both are available in the first voice experiment post.

Hers were the only footprints winding over the otherwise pristine winter vista as she stamped her humanity onto naked land. She leaned into white winds and pressed on toward the mountains, resenting them for being stone, for being inviolable, when she was so soft and raw.

When she looked over her shoulder, her eyes ignored the hills and leafless trees. She saw only the negative space where his tracks should have been. How much does it take for the afterimage of marriage to fade? Nine months? Nine years? Obviously not nine letters scrawled on divorce papers.

Snow-laced wind cut across her face. She pulled her scarf tight around her mouth and shoved her wool-covered hands back into her pockets. Even walking weighed heavily. Simple things loom large when two pairs of hands dwindle to one. Gone were the hands that covered her pink, frozen cheeks and soothed her chattering jaw. His heat became hers; their skin had luxuriated in the laws of the universe. Thermodynamics. Gravity. God.

The last time she had come here, they stumbled into their home, boots wet, a tangle of limbs and fingers and hair, too lust-addled to care about shoe prints or unopened bills. Melted snow pooled around their discarded soles.

Now he was nine months gone, warming someone else’s skin in a stale apartment, and that was that. She wondered if he wore his shoes inside.

Her pen was quicksilver. She was an alchemist; with a few strokes of her wild, illegible script, she transmuted vows into solitude. Only her own snow prints melted in the foyer, and it would have to be enough.