Biting Off A Bit Of Story

Writing is like water. I drink it, bathe in it, and when I'm lucky I float around on it. But sometimes I need to add a slice of lemon, a bit of orange, or a spritz of Jamesons to keep me intrigued. I've done that this week, going from the novel I've overedited and underwritten (thanks to a fear that has me pausing before the end), and working in a new playground. Here is a snapshot of the newly blossomed world:


                                       A Boy Named Normal

Ava stood under the willow tree, watching the bush whisper. She was certain that’s what it was doing. She’d witnessed it shiver, shake, and murmur. At first, she thought the murmuring was the beating of her own heart, sending out a loud vibration - echoing for all the neighborhood to hear. After all, how else did one’s body respond to such a phenomenon? Spying always led to a racing heart. The combination of adrenaline and excitement coursed through her like an unleashed monster. And now, now she was sure something magical would take place.

A noise, not unlike feet slapping against pavement, began to grow. Ava felt her eyes widen, as she anticipated whatever was next to come. She leaned forward, parting the willow’s limbs with one hand, as the other braced the trunk behind her. Her body was stretched like taffy in both directions, prepared to run to or from.

As the noise came nearer, she bounced on her toes, trying to control her breath. A whooshing sound emitted from the bush and then --

Thunk

Something, a bullet or a ray from a laser beam, surely, hit her in the back, and she fell forward, a whimper escaping her lips. Ava felt the cold seeping deep into her skin, and she prepared to meet her destructor.

Laughter, more commonly referred to as snickering, had her pausing in her doom, and looking up and back.

Standing a short distance from her was a boy with dark red hair, laughter in his eyes, and a smirk on his lips.

“I didn’t tap you that hard.”

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