I feel somewhat more chipper than last week. Loosing the sleep and making it back (ish) over the course of the week hasn’t done me much harm. In fact, if I think about it, I’m still getting more sleep these days than I was eleven months ago. :p
Yes, my lads were eleven months old yesterday. They’re not yet sleeping through the night consistently, but they go for faaaaaaaar longer stretches now meaning that Dave and I are significantly less zombie like. In fact, we’re barely zombies at all! It’s all very encouraging and makes projects like the one below a deal easier than I might have expected.
What project, you say? Glad you asked!
My Subs Group have decided to inundate a competition. We’re all (that’s all eight of us!) are going to write a story for a competition that closes at the end of this month. We’re hoping that one or more of us will get a prize. Hell, we’re hoping that one of us will win! That would be fabulous, but more than that, we’re trying to get into the habit of submitting our work. You don’t make progress in the ‘getting published’ stakes unless you make the effort. 😉
So, my snippet today is the opening 250(3) words of my short story. It doesn’t have a title yet (I’m awful at that) but I’m hoping to get that settled in my mind when I start editing.
The limit is 2,000 words so I don’t have a great deal of wriggle room, but I bashed this out last night after putting the kids to bed, hoping that my slowly relaxing state would add an edge to the writing. I’ve no idea how I’ve done since I haven’t looked at it since, other than picking out the first 250 words to put them here. So… I’d love to know what you think. LET ME HAVE IT!
The billowing clouds of smoke, stung her eyes, made them water. Thought she might have taken the moisture for tears, Laicee knew better. She watched the flames pour out of the shattered windows and felt nothing but the faint tingle of warmth against her soot stained skin warring with the chill of the drizzle.
A frantic voice called for help, another exclaimed that a fire engine was on the way. The sounds reached her through the stuffing of shock in her ears, blocking her hearing as surely as wads of cotton wool.
Rough hands grabbed her shoulders, tugged her away from the flames. Laicee spun around striking with both ineffectual fists before she succumbed to the inexorable tugging.
The stranger bore her away from the fire, to the side of the road. He stood beside her, one hand resting on her shoulder as if he knew that she might bolt back at any moment.
They still stood that way, side by side, when the first blue lights flashed into view, accompanied by the wail of sirens.
“Can you tell us what happened Miss Shaw?”
Laicee gazed at the table, picking a ridge of rough wood with her thumb nail. “It’s Mrs.” She whispered.
“Mrs Shaw. What happened?”
“There was a fire.” She lifted her head and gazed into the eyes of the policeman sat opposite. After observing the wry lift of his eyebrows she continued. “What’s to tell? My house burned down.”
“Where you inside when it began?”
Laicee bit her lip. “No.”
Done and done.
As always thank you for stopping by and thank you for your comments. I’m deeply grateful for any and all suggestions, ideas and nit-picks you have; I welcome them. I hope my words in return as as useful to you as yours are to me.
Don’t forget to check out what other hoppers are doing this week. 🙂