40k and pausing
Blogger ate my post yesterday. As I write them directly onto the Internet, this can be a problem, because I don't have an original I can cut and paste.
Of course, I have forgotten now what I wrote. But it was something about having a friend stay for the weekend so I wasn't doing much writing.
I am catching up today. I have already caught up the 300 words I was short on Thursday, when friend arrived. Now I've started on the 1850 I'm short for Friday.
So while I get back to that, here's something for you to think about. What would your reaction be if you suddenly discovered that your own daughter is the reincarnation of a truly evil witch that you yourself cast a curse on in a previous life?
Here's Arina's reaction:
Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my oh my.
No. This was no time to be polite. Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!
Arina sat bolt upright in bed. She wanted to scream. But Dirk snored gently by her side, a gentle reminder to take control.
She slipped out of bed. Her feet fumbled for her slippers and she found a dressing gown to cover herself. Her mouth felt dry. Her stomach felt dry. Her whole body felt dry. In fact, she felt sick to her very core. Deeper than her very core.
Please God, let me die now.
Oh damnation, hell, damnation. Spawn of Satan. Demons rule OK.
Your betraying eyes will identify you forever. She had said that herself, watching those evil eyes turn from blue to grey to blue to grey. At the time she didn't know what made her say it, except she felt she needed a reminder through the ages.
One big reminder that was.
Her own daughter. Eyes that turned from blue to grey to blue to grey, depending on her mood.
Oh God, please let me die now.
She padded downstairs and switched on the lamp. The dim glow did little to warm her soul. She felt weak, shaky, nauseous. She wanted to spend the rest of her life vomiting. She wanted the rest of her life to be one minute long.
Your betraying eyes will identify you forever.And she hadn't made the connection. She herself had placed that curse, a little curse yes, but a curse nevertheless. And she hadn't mde the connection.
Her eyes fell upon the drinks cabinet. She walked across, found the brandy, found a goblet. She poured herself a generous measure, and glugged it. This was not a time for gracious, feminine sipping. She almost vomited as the neat spirit hit her dry stomach.
She poured herself another. This was not the best way to cope with a shock like this, she knew, but it was the only way open to her right now, and for now, it would have to do.
Sip. And think. She rubbed her forehead.
Of course, I have forgotten now what I wrote. But it was something about having a friend stay for the weekend so I wasn't doing much writing.
I am catching up today. I have already caught up the 300 words I was short on Thursday, when friend arrived. Now I've started on the 1850 I'm short for Friday.
So while I get back to that, here's something for you to think about. What would your reaction be if you suddenly discovered that your own daughter is the reincarnation of a truly evil witch that you yourself cast a curse on in a previous life?
Here's Arina's reaction:
Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my oh my.
No. This was no time to be polite. Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!
Arina sat bolt upright in bed. She wanted to scream. But Dirk snored gently by her side, a gentle reminder to take control.
She slipped out of bed. Her feet fumbled for her slippers and she found a dressing gown to cover herself. Her mouth felt dry. Her stomach felt dry. Her whole body felt dry. In fact, she felt sick to her very core. Deeper than her very core.
Please God, let me die now.
Oh damnation, hell, damnation. Spawn of Satan. Demons rule OK.
Your betraying eyes will identify you forever. She had said that herself, watching those evil eyes turn from blue to grey to blue to grey. At the time she didn't know what made her say it, except she felt she needed a reminder through the ages.
One big reminder that was.
Her own daughter. Eyes that turned from blue to grey to blue to grey, depending on her mood.
Oh God, please let me die now.
She padded downstairs and switched on the lamp. The dim glow did little to warm her soul. She felt weak, shaky, nauseous. She wanted to spend the rest of her life vomiting. She wanted the rest of her life to be one minute long.
Your betraying eyes will identify you forever.And she hadn't made the connection. She herself had placed that curse, a little curse yes, but a curse nevertheless. And she hadn't mde the connection.
Her eyes fell upon the drinks cabinet. She walked across, found the brandy, found a goblet. She poured herself a generous measure, and glugged it. This was not a time for gracious, feminine sipping. She almost vomited as the neat spirit hit her dry stomach.
She poured herself another. This was not the best way to cope with a shock like this, she knew, but it was the only way open to her right now, and for now, it would have to do.
Sip. And think. She rubbed her forehead.
posted by cyberjanet at 2:10 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home