NaNo Day 1

Irritating side note: I just discovered Hotmail has, at some point over the past few months, completely deleted my old account. So much for a good 5 years worth of emails and contacts. I’d transferred most of it over to gmail already, but damned if that’s not irritating.

Anyway, rocky start today. Maybe I should have gone with something different. I’m not sure I’m feeling this book right now. We’ll see. I don’t think I’ll get anything done this weekend, since I’ll be out of town, so I’ll have a lot of catching up to do next week. I also still have to finish up my Secret Santa story. Ugh.

End word count today: 1,535, just shy of the minimum goal per day. Here’s the first couple hundred words.

Mori Katsuro was at a funeral when the event began.

His employer’s grandson, little Schichoro, had fallen to leukemia. A somber, silent funeral, attended by hundreds of the grandfather’s employees and relatives. Schichoro’s parents walked about as though in a daze, their faces tight, expressionless. Katsuro watched them and gripped his own son’s hand; Naoki had been a classmate of Schichoro’s, less than a year older. Naoki’s face was a mask of composure, but Katsuro suspected he’d be cradling the boy to sleep that night. Katsuro stifled a proud smile when Naoki glared at a small group of children huddled around a Nintendo, rosaries draped around their necks.

The funeral disrupted the streets of central Nagoya for a full hour as the guests arrived at the temple. Katsuro and his son sat on the third row, just behind the family. Mr. Maeda sat near the casket, beside his daughter and son-in-law. He gave tight nods as visitors walked past, bowing. The priest chanted as dozens of people approached the altar and offered incense for the boy’s urn. Katsuro watched the urn, the future resting place of the young man. He thought of the family’s duty to pick through the boy’s bones after the cremation. What would the bones be like? Will the cancer have left enough behind? Or would they be too brittle and crumble between the chopsticks? He suppressed a shudder and looked down, ashamed at his own thoughts.

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