Yesterday, I went to my first write-in. A bunch of nano nuts who live in the same city get together, chat, play games and word wars, and write. I met my 1,000 word target in the two hours I stayed. Fortunately, I’d already written two thousand in the morning.
Today, seeing as it’s Sunday, I decided to write 1,500 the absolute low limit. Got caught in the story, ended up writing 2,000. Hence the total.
Here’s another short excerpt (I remind you that this is a first draft. Read at your own risks):
â€œHeâ€™s like the Phoenix. You know that bird that rises from its ashes?â€
â€œWeâ€™re back to mythology?â€
â€œI donâ€™t think so. It lives and dies in the same way. At least thatâ€™s what Winston says.â€
Terry stared at the still sleeping kid, now looking more like a young teenager than a boy. I had to get him some pants. The t-shirt wouldnâ€™t cover much of him pretty soon.
Terry swallowed audibly. â€œDid Winston say how much of a mess itâ€™ll make when he explodes?â€ He looked back at me, his eyes stark. â€œIâ€™ve seen what brain and guts can do to a room.â€
â€œThanks for that wonderful picture and, no, he didnâ€™t say. I thought the exploding part was more a metaphor than reality.â€
â€œConsidering whatâ€™s been going on so far, I wouldnâ€™t assume anything.â€ He checked his watch. â€œListen, I have to get back to work. Thereâ€™s nothing I can do, here. If Winston finds more and you feel I can help in some way, give me a ring.â€
After Terry left, I dug out a pair of sweats for Phoenix. Iâ€™d decided to give him that name, instead of calling him â€˜kidâ€™ all the time, especially that he didnâ€™t look like a kid anymore. Heâ€™d grown and filled up again in the few minutes Iâ€™d left him. And he was awake again. I was getting worried about calls of nature. Granted, he hadnâ€™t eaten much and had drunk nothing since the formula Mrs. P had given him, but it had been over five hours.
â€œOkay, Phoenix, letâ€™s get those on you. Then weâ€™ll see if you can walk. If you do, weâ€™ll take a little trip to the washroom.â€
Phoenix was so docile, he might as well still be sleeping. He didnâ€™t hinder me when I put pants and socks on him, but he didnâ€™t help either. I hadnâ€™t known how difficult it was to lift someone who was as stiff as a cooked noodle. My respect for nurses climbed in the five minutes it took me to pull Phoenixâ€™s pants over his butt. It was also fairly uncomfortable to be that visually close to another manâ€™s equipment. Phoenix was definitely fully grown in all respects.