I almost forgot, but the writing group is doing our annual Story Every Day contest this month. For the next couple of weeks we’ll be churning out a short story every single day. It is crazy!
Thanks to some forgetfulness and a minor communications snafu, we’re actually starting today instead of yesterday like we’d originally intended. But no biggie. So I’ll be trying to post excerpts of my attempts each day.
This is a little of what I wrote last night at the write-in to kick things off. I thought this might serve as a good companion piece to a story I’ll have appearing in A Thousand Faces later this year.
Every afternoon at two, after a meeting with the district supervisor down the hall, she rolled past my desk. Her name was Stacey Park, and wheelchair almost swallowed her slight frame. She dressed business casual, usually a long skirt with a neutral blouse. She kept her hair in a simple ponytail, probably preferring not to deal with the hassle of something more complicated. But it just accented the faint Asian features around her eyes and mouth. Black horn-rimmed glasses completed the look, though sometimes, if the meeting went badly, she had them in her lap as her face crinkled in rage. Even in anger, she was gorgeous. I fell in love a little more every afternoon at two.
She worked in R&D, though. Months ago Jones, my former cubicle mate, had made a pass at Yaleena in R&D, and he had vanished the next day. I heard he’d been pressed into service in one of the Cybermen brigades. I know there’s a give and take with that position, but personally I’m not ready to trade my emotions and pain sensitivity for a miniaturized fusion reactor installed in place of my heart, and I say no thanks to chaingun-arms.