You'll feel better when you're back at work. You just got comfortable moving things around and setting up a new home :) Maybe you can ease back into a work frame of mind by catching up with comments? ;-p
Reluctance The Inspectral looked at the box: Collins had set it down on his desk, neatly swaddled in a clear plastic bag. “I can feel the rage,” he said. He had pushed his chair slightly back from the desk, away from the box and was lightly drumming the fingers of his right hand on the arm of his chair. At least, that was the motion, though his fingers dipped slightly into the arm of the chair each time. He hadn’t said anything, but his reluctance to be near it was palpable. “On the beach? The only one?” “I didn’t dig any further,” said Collins. “I thought it was better to get back here with this. It looks old, it’s not like we’re looking for a murderer.” Adams laid her hand gently on his arm. Both of them were sat again in the chairs on the other side of the Inspectral’s desk. “We might be,” she said. “Bad assumption. It might be a murder committed thirty years ago, but it would still be a murder.” “Skulls aren’t buried on beaches,” said the Inspectral. “Even back when there were more people.” “There were burials at sea,” said Adams. “True, but the history books say that was mostly sprinkling ashes on the water. And even if they just dumped the body overboard, how would the skull end up in a box that doesn’t even look water damaged?” Collins looked panicked. “Should I go—” “Sit, lad,” said the Inspectral. His voice wasn’t unkind, though it did lack all the warmth of a living one. Listening to him speak, even when he was passionate about something, was like being lectured at by someone much more intelligent than you who is hoping you can keep up. “For next time: radio in what you’ve found when you’ve found it and get advice. For now, we are where we are and hurrying now will only lead to more mistakes.” Collins found himself focusing entirely on the word ‘more’ and missed the next few sentences. When he dragged his thoughts back together, Adams was speaking. “…bones?” “There were no other bones that I saw,” said Collins, hoping he guessed right. “It’s our best lead,” said the Inspectral. “There was nothing at the roadworks; just a couple of cars queueing up on either side and a muddy hole in the road. Not even any psychic residue, a complete dead-end. Let’s get this down to Anna, and Collins, you go tell the duty sergeant about what you found and ask him to send a SOCO team out there.” Collins frowned, and Adams, starting to stand already, caught it. “Anna is the Psychic Forensics tech,” she said. “Come up and join us when you’re done at the front desk; third floor, room M317.”
The kids are back at school and I have time and quiet to write again. Does that mean I feel like I want to write? No. My writing brain is reluctant. So I have started here with a bit of silliness and now maybe I can go write a bit more on something more serious.
Prompt: reluctance “I’ve seen you watching us, boy,” the man without an eye said. “How’bout you come over here and learn how it’s done.” The other men at the table turned to look at me, their eyes narrowing as they took in every detail of my frame. I had always felt scrawny, like Fate had shaved off half of my being when she created me. But I somehow felt even smaller under their combined gaze. I wanted to shy away from them. The cards in their hands, however, drew me forward. Yes, I had been watching them. I was intrigued as to what the cards were saying and why some seemed to earn the men coin while others only lead to curses. “I can’t,” I finally answered. “My mother said cards were for cheats and drunks.” The man without an eye gave me a crooked grin. I saw then that the scar across his eye also extended down half of his face. “Is your mother here? Or are her apron strings that long?” My lips began to tremble before I exhaled the sadness away. “My mother is dead, Sir.” His smile vanished. “Fate rest her. But there’s no shame in going against her wishes for a little bit of coin, eh? By the look of ya, I can guess you could use some ale and bread in your belly. Come, learn how to gamble.” I looked at the men again and felt nerves take flight in my stomach. Could I trust these ruffians to be fair and teach a dirty chile like myself? Would they simply cheat me out of the little coin I had and then kick me out of the tavern, onto the streets where I now belonged? One of the other men, a squat fellow with beady eyes and the barest hint of a beard, sneered at me. “Get off it, Digladio. I don’t have the time nor the patience to teach this orphan. Let’s continue with he game so I can go back to work.” “It’ll help him in the long run,” the one-eyed man—Digladio—said. “Come, lad. The rules are quite simple.”
Greg - I was mostly just out of the routine of going to work, what with the 14 days away thing. First week back was not bad, but I was pretty done with it by Friday afternoon. Seemed like everyone else in the office was as well though, so that might not have been just me.
And hey, I'm working on the comments. Look at me almost catching up!
Yay, you didn't even need my urging to keep this going! Consider me now fully on board with this going as long as it needs to go :)
Morganna - that's the spirit! My writing brain is also reluctant, so I'm warming it up by replying to comments. I... think it's helping. We'll see.
Ivy - consider me intrigued. I hope you're inspired to continue this on for a while.
4 comments:
You'll feel better when you're back at work. You just got comfortable moving things around and setting up a new home :) Maybe you can ease back into a work frame of mind by catching up with comments? ;-p
Reluctance
The Inspectral looked at the box: Collins had set it down on his desk, neatly swaddled in a clear plastic bag. “I can feel the rage,” he said. He had pushed his chair slightly back from the desk, away from the box and was lightly drumming the fingers of his right hand on the arm of his chair. At least, that was the motion, though his fingers dipped slightly into the arm of the chair each time. He hadn’t said anything, but his reluctance to be near it was palpable. “On the beach? The only one?”
“I didn’t dig any further,” said Collins. “I thought it was better to get back here with this. It looks old, it’s not like we’re looking for a murderer.”
Adams laid her hand gently on his arm. Both of them were sat again in the chairs on the other side of the Inspectral’s desk. “We might be,” she said. “Bad assumption. It might be a murder committed thirty years ago, but it would still be a murder.”
“Skulls aren’t buried on beaches,” said the Inspectral. “Even back when there were more people.”
“There were burials at sea,” said Adams.
“True, but the history books say that was mostly sprinkling ashes on the water. And even if they just dumped the body overboard, how would the skull end up in a box that doesn’t even look water damaged?”
Collins looked panicked. “Should I go—”
“Sit, lad,” said the Inspectral. His voice wasn’t unkind, though it did lack all the warmth of a living one. Listening to him speak, even when he was passionate about something, was like being lectured at by someone much more intelligent than you who is hoping you can keep up. “For next time: radio in what you’ve found when you’ve found it and get advice. For now, we are where we are and hurrying now will only lead to more mistakes.”
Collins found himself focusing entirely on the word ‘more’ and missed the next few sentences. When he dragged his thoughts back together, Adams was speaking.
“…bones?”
“There were no other bones that I saw,” said Collins, hoping he guessed right.
“It’s our best lead,” said the Inspectral. “There was nothing at the roadworks; just a couple of cars queueing up on either side and a muddy hole in the road. Not even any psychic residue, a complete dead-end. Let’s get this down to Anna, and Collins, you go tell the duty sergeant about what you found and ask him to send a SOCO team out there.”
Collins frowned, and Adams, starting to stand already, caught it. “Anna is the Psychic Forensics tech,” she said. “Come up and join us when you’re done at the front desk; third floor, room M317.”
The kids are back at school and I have time and quiet to write again. Does that mean I feel like I want to write? No. My writing brain is reluctant. So I have started here with a bit of silliness and now maybe I can go write a bit more on something more serious.
Prompt: reluctance
“I’ve seen you watching us, boy,” the man without an eye said. “How’bout you come over here and learn how it’s done.”
The other men at the table turned to look at me, their eyes narrowing as they took in every detail of my frame. I had always felt scrawny, like Fate had shaved off half of my being when she created me. But I somehow felt even smaller under their combined gaze. I wanted to shy away from them.
The cards in their hands, however, drew me forward. Yes, I had been watching them. I was intrigued as to what the cards were saying and why some seemed to earn the men coin while others only lead to curses.
“I can’t,” I finally answered. “My mother said cards were for cheats and drunks.”
The man without an eye gave me a crooked grin. I saw then that the scar across his eye also extended down half of his face. “Is your mother here? Or are her apron strings that long?”
My lips began to tremble before I exhaled the sadness away. “My mother is dead, Sir.”
His smile vanished. “Fate rest her. But there’s no shame in going against her wishes for a little bit of coin, eh? By the look of ya, I can guess you could use some ale and bread in your belly. Come, learn how to gamble.”
I looked at the men again and felt nerves take flight in my stomach. Could I trust these ruffians to be fair and teach a dirty chile like myself? Would they simply cheat me out of the little coin I had and then kick me out of the tavern, onto the streets where I now belonged?
One of the other men, a squat fellow with beady eyes and the barest hint of a beard, sneered at me. “Get off it, Digladio. I don’t have the time nor the patience to teach this orphan. Let’s continue with he game so I can go back to work.”
“It’ll help him in the long run,” the one-eyed man—Digladio—said. “Come, lad. The rules are quite simple.”
Greg - I was mostly just out of the routine of going to work, what with the 14 days away thing. First week back was not bad, but I was pretty done with it by Friday afternoon. Seemed like everyone else in the office was as well though, so that might not have been just me.
And hey, I'm working on the comments. Look at me almost catching up!
Yay, you didn't even need my urging to keep this going! Consider me now fully on board with this going as long as it needs to go :)
Morganna - that's the spirit! My writing brain is also reluctant, so I'm warming it up by replying to comments. I... think it's helping. We'll see.
Ivy - consider me intrigued. I hope you're inspired to continue this on for a while.
Post a Comment