Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns. So glad you could stop by for a visit. :-) Holy speeding-by-year! September is almost half over!
Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.
Snippet Sunday group from facebook--not us, but many of our participants do both, can be found HERE
The travelers are now on the boat that is taking them upriver into the Firce Mountains. Tayden has just asked Wiley(river driver) if his Maker ever answers when he talks to him. Wiley's answering him, telling him a story from "back before this hair was gray." :-) We are still in Kad's POV.
So, on a day when best I should’a stayed home and been countin' my money instead’a hauling foreigners into questionable weather, I headed upstream. That heavy sky opened up and damnation poured down. Chunks of ice like broken glass pelted us, and the lightning tore open seams in the black clouds."
Tayden, who’d looked just a tad dubious when the old man had begun, now listened, unblinking.
Wiley looked toward the water, the riverbanks, then his passengers, but didn’t seem to actually see any of it; his gaze was distant, at a place and time in yesteryear. “The hail and strikes weren’t nothin' compared to the wind that came cursing down the river. Was the breath of the devil himself, I think. Fore I knowed it, that old wood boat was taking a tumble in front of a wall of water.”