Yes, my folks…I’m still around. I’ve just been so involved in some other projects, including my 2nd novel. I’m trying my best to please my fans as well as prospective new ones, so I’m giving this one more of my attention. I have no idea where or how this novel is going to end, but I’m excited to learn. The words have been flowing pretty smoothly and with little hesitation. I have been getting quite a bit of inspiration while listening to some pop, rock, and techno. :: raises eyebrow :: Yes, it’s weird, but don’t ask! 🙂
To tickle your fancies a little bit, I have included below a snippet of the chapter I’m currently writing. It’s the [very] raw edition, so it will definitely change before the final product is published; I’m even thinking about changing the characters’ names. However, the essence of the content will remain the same, so no worries there. In the meantime, enjoy.
I trek back down the hall to my room—the room I have called my home for almost 30 days. Will I even recognize my old home? The halls now seem different; it’s quiet. When I first came here, I felt wrath and depression. Now, all I feel is sorrow, sorrow for the souls who must remain here long after I’m gone. I also worry about Lisa. She may only have two more weeks, but within those two weeks, will she regress? Who will she call to pick her up when she’s discharged? Will she and Todd remain in touch?
Once I entered my room, I struggle to make the sound decision to begin packing. Twenty-eight days ago, I imagined this day a little differently. My bags would have been packed a week ago, and I would be sitting on my stripped bed, waiting with my sealed bags by the door. Nope. The course has changed. I sit here with my legs dangling from the side of the bed while my empty duffle bag rests on the floor beneath my bare feet.
“Hey there, roomie.”
“Damn it, Lisa! You scared me. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“That excited to be leaving, huh?”
“Good. But you have a phone call.”
“Yeah. I was on my way back here when I heard the lady at the front desk ask an orderly to come get you ’cause you have a phone call. I told them that I would tell you. So, you better hurry up.”
“Wow. Thanks, Lisa.”
It’s been about a week since my last phone call. Phone calls around here are like fresh water in a desert. I sprint to the front office in lightning speed. I’m sure that the person, who’s probably Dana, has been waiting for a few minutes now, and I don’t want to miss her call.
“Hi, Ana. I was told that I have a phone call.”
“And who are you?”
“Um, it’s me, Sicily.”
“Like I’m supposed to know every nut in here. Yeah, you got a call. Wait a second.”
What a bargain basement, slum village bitch! She passes me the receiver as if she has Rheumatoid Ass-ritis in her elbow and shakes it in my face like I can’t see it. I don’t have all day, witch. Then she proceeds to press the “hold” button like the Ass-ritis has spread to her chalked knuckles.
“Hi, hello. This is Sicily. Dana, is this you?”
“No, sweetheart. It’s Taylor.”