Happy Saint Patrick's Day (week). :-)
Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors. If you'd like to participate or read tempting morsels from other authors, please sign up--or check the linky list at: http://wewriwa.blogspot.com/
Also, check out the Snippet Sunday group on facebook.
This snippet is from Emmily, Unbound, an SFR story. Emmily is having an argument with Adren about General.
Last week's snippet ended with: " You can never force someone to agree with an opinion. Like respect, people must come to it on their own.”
I hide back in my world again, in my mind, which would remain private if I could just keep from thinking out loud. My thoughts go back to last spring, two days after the divorce was final, when the police came to my front door. My parents were gone, stolen from me by a drunk driver. And then my blood pressure, along with my anxiety, soared, always waiting for another tragedy, another loss to grab my world, to suck something I love right up into a clear blue sky.
I can’t stop the bitter laugh as I shake my head. Yeah, I came up here to live a Zen writing life, to, among other things, get my blood pressure back to where it should be. Instead, I’m in a captive-not-captive situation, being held by aliens-not-aliens.
And let’s not forget that my muse seems horribly muddled by E.T.s and hostage situations. She’d been all but gone since the accident, so when she talked a little on the trip up here from the city, I was optimistic. Her voice seemed alright that day, maybe a little rusty but not contrary to everything I’ve written so far.
Then, enter aliens, plastic ray-guns pointed at my head, and voila! She’s gone freaky on me again.
I guess she did talk a little the night General told me I could sleep in the bedroom. Big of him. But everything she said was crap. Cliché swill. I’ll never get this Civil War love story written.
That's it for this week. Thank you so much for visiting and for reading. :-)