Thursday, August 29, 2013

The Silent Room: Part 5

Number 11

Eventually Number 11 had gotten up the ladder and into the second floor room.    By then it was... well, it should have been nearly dark, making it impossible to make out more than an empty room, but somehow the sun seemed to be giving one last blast of light to help him out.  The room was both more and less than he had hoped for back on the ground looking up.

The more was that it was scrupulously clean.  Not one dust mote dared to hang in the air or find a home on the smooth wood of the floor.  The less was that the there was literally nothing else in the room but him.  Not even a box that could be used as a chair. Nor a light switch.  Not even a book.  (The last made him depressed, though when he tried to think if he had ever seen a book, he couldn't pull up a mental image of what one even was or think why he would want one. )

Brushing the stray thoughts aside, he took a careful walk around the room, looking for any trap doors  or staircases that might let him down into the lower half of the building while there was still sunlight. (He didn't find any.)  Until at last, the sun decided it had had enough of a last hurrah and settled the world officially into near dark..  In that brief gloaming of near dark before the shades of night had fully fallen, he settled himself as comfortably as he could onto the floor near the doorway where he could lean against the wall but still look out and see the light of the stars as they began flickering into existence.

After darkness fell, so thick he could barely see more than the doorway opening out, he sat for a long time with his head rested back against the wall just listening to the silence of the country- all sighing winds and singing tree frogs and humming cicadas- and tried to puzzle out the how and where of this strange place. Eventually his overworked mind gave up, and as his eyes drifted closed and he slid into sleep,. one last unnoticed thought formed in that breath of space between waking and sleeping. The country's not so silent really.  Kind of like the Silent Room.  

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Update on the Status of The Silent Room Series...

I have  not been posting any further prompts in this series, but  it has not been forgotten :)

I have continued working on it in bits and bursts as I get a prompt that feels like it fits. While it has still (mostly) kept to the basic premise of a prompt  series,  the story was just getting complicated enough, I thought I should reach a bit of a resting place in the writing of it before I continued on with posting them.  Look for them to begin posting weekly again, starting next Thursday.

Addendum 11.2.13

for those looking for thursday updates, this serial has not been forgotten. just my minor edits to the sections I have already written have taken a back seat to my nano plotting and planning.  that and my slight error in editing myself into a bit of a story "faultline"... will hopefully revise myself out of it shortly.  will hopefully begin posting these again soon.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

WNP: A Rainy Day

Have let myself get out of the Tuesday morning habit of writing prompts. Here's a start back into the prompt writing...

Write Now! Prompt: They huddled under the bus shelter as the rain and wind got heavier.

For 7:30 in the morning, it was incredibly dismal out, though Reyna.  The wind gusted past carrying scraps of sheet metal and broken branches from the work site down the street, pushing everyone back into the bus shelter as far out of the rain and wind as they could get.  Several strands of her long blond hair pulled free from the hairband tying it back, whipping it across her eyes and chin.  If only the bus would hurry up, just this one morning.

She gave a short nod of hello to the workman in gray coveralls whose shoulder she was now pressing into and worked to shove her hair out of her eyes and mouth and back behind her ear..

"'Sup," he returned the greeting with his own flick of the chin.

One of the teens at the far side of the shelter cracked a joke she couldn't quite make out. Loud peels of laughter broke out, and one of the younger girls was laughing so hard she nearly fell over into the rather large puddle forming just outside the shelter.  Luckily one of her friends grabbed her back.  It did nothing to calm the shouts of laughter, however.  With a tired sigh, Reyna put her hand up to her forehead to try and rub away the wrinkle of worry and frustration that just wouldn't quite relax and to push away irritated thoughts at why these teens to make it out of bed before 8 on this particular summer morning..  It wasn't their fault she was having a bad day.  She should be glad they were making the best of this midwest take on a monsoon rain.

Down the street there was a loud squeal of brakes, and the dark form of the Number 2 materialized through the gusting mist and pouring rain.

"Bus!" yelled one of the teens, as it came to a halt in front of them and swung open its doors on a puff of air. A moment later everyone was piling in out of the rain as fast as they could go.  Luckily no one needed to get off at this stop today.  A moment after that she was in a warm dry seat and breathing a little more easily.  Reyna looked at her watch just as they pulled away from the bus stop a full minute and a half early.  She felt her lips curl up into the beginnings of a smile.

Maybe this day had a good chance of turning around after all.