I’m now on day 12 of National Novel Writing Month. It’s a great challenge, and I am enjoying it immensely. However, it means that I’ve been spending all my time focusing on my novel, rather than my blogs. And for that, I apologize.
So today I am offering you a small excerpt, so that you can see what I’ve been up to for the past couple of weeks. Note that it is unedited. Sorry about that:
“Still, I think I should carry your bag for you,” Iuvo replied stubbornly.
She shook her head. “I do not deserve your kindness,” she rolled her sleeves back down.
“It is not about deserving,” he said. “It is about helping. If I do not do this, then what kind of a person am I?” He countered.
One of the elite, her mind supplied, but she said nothing as he shouldered her bag. She snuck the occasional glance as they walked past the tents, but he seemed not to see the way people looked, nor hear what they whispered. But she saw it all, and heard it all, and every stare, every word, fed the darkness that she was trying so hard to ignore.
She swallowed the sludge of words along with her meal. It slid like black oil down her throat. She inhaled their whispers with every breath, whispers that began to coat her veins, her lungs, until it became a struggle to keep her breathing even.
Even as they bent over their sketches, discussing their improvements and making lists of materials necessary, the air seemed thick with words, so many words. And not the words that she wished for, not the ones that put wings on her feet and heart. These ones pushed her head down, they bent her shoulders with their weight, and they dulled her eyes with their darkness.
And as she grasped her ruler, it suddenly seemed to weigh so much more than before. The weight pulled on her wrist, and with a wince, her fingers loosened and it fell to the ground where it lay, too heavy for her to lift.