Hard Day Writing

Posted on Posted in Uncategorised, Writing

Chapter 12 is done, and the word count is now over 36,000 words.

Today was difficult. Needed to do the lawn and mulch leaves. Spent a great amount of time outside. Came in and my body just said enough.

So I spent a while laying down to recoup, and then, near the end, start to write. Once writing started, it was easy to push out another 3000 words.

For those following, here is the chapter preview:

Jill stops the truck just outside of the ATV shop in Stouffville. We get out, and she pulls the out of the cab. She scans the street for anything that breaks the morning silence.

I step up to the front doors and give a pull. Locked, just like I thought. Metal grates decorate the back and front of the glass door, so breaking it is not a resolution to our problem. Besides, the door is not big enough to let us get anything of worth out of the dealership. I check the fence, and it is not locked.

A quick tug opens the gate, and I walk through at a leisurely pace.

There are crates stacked in the yard with many different items in them. I pull my coat tighter as a brisk wind whips through. There are just a few things to look for, and a lot of stuff to grab your attention.

I hear the truck engine roar to life, and red washes against the ground as Jill backs the truck into the yard. She stops at the trailers, gets out, and grabs her bow. An arrow is knocked right away. She’s being safe.

Not worrying about what is behind me, I turn a curious eye to several ATVs. One looks brand new, but I can tell the hell it went through due to the cracked front cowling and oil on the ground. Need to get one that is used, but not killed. If we can find two or three, that would make our day.

There is another door, and it leads to the showroom. Just what I wanted, and when I test it, the thing is not locked. I pull, and the smell almost knocks me on my ass. There has to be at least one corpse inside, and it’s ripe.

I give a low whistle, and Jill looks up from her task of finding at least a double trailer. She comes over, and the wrinkling of her nose tells me she knows why. I’ll still need at least two weeks before I can hold a bow properly, and another to practice up to the level needed to be of any good. Rust begets rust.

Jill steps in and I unclip the small flashlight I brought. One flick ignites a small beam, and I use it to scan the area. Nothing. No corpses, no danger from what I can see.

“I don’t like it,” Jill whispers.

 

Okay, until tomorrow, we’ll see you. Happy NaNoing.

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