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Monday, January 24, 2011

Story Excerpt #1

Well, I have a "first draft"--whatever that means--here's an excerpt--THRILLING, I KNOW--

(The good thing about italics is that it looks like you're quoting a novel.)


The chicken was flat enough. Mommy threw it into the cast-iron pan with a spattering explosion of oil.

“Ouch,” whispered Mommy, red-faced. “Fuck fuck fuck. Thalia, leave the kitchen right now!”

She fled upstairs. Luce was in his room, playing quietly with trucks. His little voice crept into the hallway, making hesitant truck-sounds. Thalia peeked in.

“You want me to read to you, Luce?”

“No,” he said, crashing a semi-truck into a block mansion.

“OK.” She sat in the old rocking chair by his bed, Mommy's old nursing chair. There was something very familiar about the contours, the particular way this chair rocked. Her eyes were already drooping.

“Can you be quieter? I'm napping.”

Luce nodded with a quivering lip.

There was some strong memory associated with this chair. It was a boat—it was a boat—

It was a boat in the clouds!

“Luce, do you remember what we used to play in this chair?”

“No,” he said. He was rebuilding the mansion for another heartless destruction.

“This is the boat in the clouds, remember? You're the captain and I'm the first mate.”

“Oh yeah!” he said.

“You wanna try it out?” said Thalia. He might be too big, they might not be able to fit. But he came scrambling for her lap, nestling against her shoulder. They began to rock. The chair was big enough for both of them, lined with downy fabric. “Steer, captain,” she said. The clouds were smooth under the boat, tipping it up and down in velvety waves. They brushed against your face. Feathery. It was impossible to get seasick in the clouds, right Luce? They used to lean over the sides, shrieking at the distant cities and seas beneath them, but tonight it seemed better to close her eyes and let the clouds rock her to sleep. Luce was leaning over the sides, whispering, “Whoa, look down there!” and tugging at her sleeve but she was so tired, and the air up here was so clean, and the shreds of cloud that covered the boat were better than a blanket. In the distance was a creamy moon. They were sailing toward it. Then she was asleep.

1 comment:

You are truly great.