Let's just say it didn't hurt 2/3 of my students were gone to math competition. ;)
From Borrowed Saints:
It thundered from the shadows on the other side of the bridge like a fountain of steam. Tucker’s mouth hung open as he watched, his brain spinning in broken circles like the web of a drunken spider. The train was transparent, a razor-thin sliver of pale smoke painted against the starry gap. It rattled over the bridge, first the engine and a coal car, several passenger cars, a few freight cars, the caboose. And like smoke, it dissipated at the near side, crumbling into the sky as a puff of spectral dust.
And how did I end yesterday's writing session? With this exchange between one of my protags and a mystery girl:
“The third tragedy…something awful about it. Something intelligent.”
He offered a weak smile. “Okay.”
“Something that wants you dead.”
Thus ends Act I.