Not a bad day, yesterday (3,000 words) although I didn’t meet my personal target of 4,000.
I thought Mondays were bad writing days because I usually didn’t write on the weekend but, no, Mondays are simply bad writing days. I’ll have to figure out why. Here’s another short excerpt from the very rough work-in-progress:
â€œSo, what was that stuff I sent you?â€
â€œBaby formula. Whereâ€™s the baby?â€
â€œWhy did you send it to me, then?â€
â€œYou didnâ€™t come in here just to tell me that what I sent you for analysis was simply baby formula.â€
â€œIâ€™m here, arenâ€™t I?â€
â€œYeah, but youâ€™re not blasting me for wasting your time.â€
The microwave beeped. â€œOkay, itâ€™s really weird baby formula.â€ Claire opened the door, took down her cup, and dunked a teabag in the boiling water. â€œWhere did it come from?â€
I opened the fridge, where Iâ€™d put the bottle. It was gone. â€œUh-oh.â€
â€œYou want milk with that tea? Because if you do, I donâ€™t have any.â€
I rubbed my hands over my face. My snooze to the sounds of music hadnâ€™t done much for my exhaustion. â€œIâ€™ve had a strange day.â€
The doorbell pealed again. â€œThatâ€™ll be my pizza.â€
Claire made a sound of disgust. Being a vegetarian and a health nut, she couldnâ€™t repress her disapproval at what she considered a disgusting mix of dairy and meat. Myself, I pretty much considered it an essential diet staple. It had all the food groups â€”grain, cheese, protein, and veggiesâ€” and, if it came from Dominoâ€™s tasted like heaven.
I dumped the pie on the dining room table, came back to the kitchen for a plate and a paper towel, which I brought back to the table.
â€œYou could at least use a knife and fork,â€ Claire said. Sheâ€™d followed me to the dining room and sat at the opposite side of the table.
â€œWhy? Then Iâ€™d have to clean them.â€
â€œYou have a dishwasher, for Godâ€™s sake.â€
â€œI like full contact with my food.â€ I picked up a slice, dumped it on my plate. Then I sighed, went back to the kitchen for utensils and a placemat. Claire scowling at me was enough to give me indigestion, so it was easier to just play the civilized man. â€œHappy, now?â€
â€œThat formula was supposed to be in the fridge and itâ€™s gone, isnâ€™t it?â€
Claire may be lots of things, such as a pain in the butt, but I couldnâ€™t accuse her of being stupid. In fact, she was one of the most intelligent women Iâ€™d ever known, including Annie. â€œYou got it. What was weird about it?â€
â€œWell, first, if you gave that stuff to a human baby, he wouldnâ€™t have a mouth, let alone a throat or a stomach inside a minute. The stuff is as caustic as sulfuric acid, although itâ€™s not what it is. In fact, itâ€™s a type of acid Iâ€™d never encountered before.â€
â€œBut I handled it when I poured out a bit for you. Some of it dropped on my hand and it didnâ€™t do any damage.â€
â€œIt activates when in contact with another liquid, such as saliva.â€
â€œWhy did you say it was baby formula, then?â€
â€œBecause it also has casein, whey protein, milk and vegetable fat, sugar, and lactose. In short, infant formula ingredients.â€
I took a bite of pizza, chewed to give me time to think. â€œIâ€™m not a biochemist, but Iâ€™d think the acid would destroy these other ingredients.â€
â€œYes, it should. It doesnâ€™t.â€
â€œHence the term weird attached to it.â€
â€œYes. Did a baby come with that formula?â€