The first "official" day of school went down yesterday.
I talk too much on day one. Blah, blah, blah, expectations...blah, blah, blah, syllabus...so tired. I will eventually catch the swing of things again, but until I do the project (aka Loathsome) will have to move into the slow lane.
I did surpass 40K...actually I'm at 41K (huzzah!). So here's today's snippet:
I hurried a few steps to catch up with [Curt]. “I met a man before leaving—actually before I even came to St. Helens. A man named Pete Archer.” My eyes scrutinized every wrinkle on Curt’s face for the slightest hint of recognition, the slightest twitch or vibration in his placid features.
“Never heard of him.” Curt’s voice chilled my marrow.
“He…well, he said he knew you.” I rubbed perspiration from my forehead with the palm of one hand. “I thought he might have been one—”
“No.” Curt smiled, and his lips stretched between the thick sideburns on his cheeks. “No one by the name of Archer ever worked in my camp.”
His smile sent discomfort scurrying across my skin, but I pressed the question. “He had scars at the back of his neck.” I touched the back of my own neck, just at the base of the skull. “Scars that looked like puncture marks.”
I also managed to write a "dark" flash piece that needs a little editing.