Those last two entries were from The Requiem of Time, for those of you reading on Blogspot. People on my account on Wordpress, disregard this little part.
What am I going to post now? Well its not going to be simply a picture day, but I would like to post one:
I saw this girl and didn’t realize who it was…its Ashlee Simpson. I would have to say that’s a very dramatic change from when I remember her.
Now, here is a little snippet of the novel – this is from the first one in Chapter Three: Rain -
A beam of light cut through the darkened living room as Holly pushed through the front door of her loft. The side of her body was pressed flush against the door as she fought to free the keys from deadbolt. The entire building was newly renovated; things hadn’t been completely smooth with the move in.
Her front door jammed. It took her body weight to make it budge. The keys would get stuck in the lock and it could take several moments to free them. Over all it wasn’t a bad place, it just had its quirks. She spun the keys away from the wall, then back and pulled them free of the door knob.
The whole place smelled of fresh plaster, paint and lumber. She slapped her hand to the wall searching for the light switch as she slipped out of her heels and kicked them off to the side of the door. With the switch flicked the room was instantly illuminated. She scoffed at her own efforts with the moving process. She’d unpacked only the essentials in the three days since the last of her things had arrived from England.
Great towers of cellophane wrapped cardboard rose up around the room. The boxes were stacked and arranged in such a way that she could make it through the room without having to walk around anything. There were no boxes where her flat screen television hung on the wall and none directly in front of the couch.
But the kitchen table was covered in containers that were filled to the brim with cookware, dishes and nonperishable foods. She’d been too lazy to make the effort to prepare food at home, so it had suited her for the time being to eat out. She made her way through the room, her feet slipping on the smooth tile some as she walked.
As she moved past the television she cupped her hand underneath it hitting the power button. The station was tuned to the BBC, it was too late for her to catch the six o’clock news and she didn’t want to wait for the later showing.
Holly stopped next to the small counter that fenced off the kitchenette. She arched her back forward, bracing her hands against her lower back and trying to stretch. Her back gave a few short pops and then she stopped with a sigh. She undid her shoulder holster, placing the gun upon the counter with the harness still attached.
The news reporter droned on about trouble on Israel’s West Bank as she unfastened her shirt and slung it over the kitchen chair that was still wrapped in cardboard and cellophane from packing. She stood there momentarily in her tank top and examined the wound on her arm. It had already sealed up and even scabbed over to the point it was completely closed. She figured it best to remove the gauze and let it breathe now.
As she went to discard the materials that had dressed the wound the sparkle of the city out her back window caught her eye. Her dinner table was situated right next to the big window and patio she had, the patio itself hung out into the air six stories up and overlooked a prominent Houston neighborhood.
The sun set earlier, a sign of winter’s approached. The sky was already shrouded in darkness when she arrived home that night. But as she stood at the sliding glass door to the back patio she noticed for the first time the distant burning lights of the city and their beauty. Each skyscraper in the distance was only discernable because of the multitude of lights that formed its outline, like a man made constellation.
I might be back here later,
Cardboard Tube Knight
No comments:
Post a Comment