Well...I'm here. Again. Standing still some days. But, that's ok. Life gets in the way but I'm ok with that. I write when I can. The time to think about it is minimal though, and as everyone knows, time is crucial to writing. But, I found time once again. It's been forever. But inspiration struck and I've found a voice once again. Not sure exactly where the story is going, but I like the characters. They keep me entertained. Hoping it goes somewhere. 32000 words in, can't give up on them now. Here's an excerpt:
Roddy was waiting for me as I opened the car door, the music blaring loud enough to drown out the sound of his drumming against the steering wheel, the blue in his hair shimmering under the dim light of the opened car door.
“Sorry,” I said as I got in, slamming the door behind me. The smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming.
“No worries, we still got time,” he took a drag of his lit cigarette and blew the smoke out his open window. “Ivy won’t hurt us...much.”
“Do you mind putting that out?” I asked, feigning to wave the smoke from the cigarette away from my face. “I just don’t want to smell like a chimney when I get home tonight.”
“Oh, god, yeah,” Roddy flicked the cigarette out the open window. “I’m sorry. I totally wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s ok,” I shouted over the death metal song that was playing, all screams and screeching guitars. “Do you think you can turn the music down a bit, maybe?”
“Anything else?” Roddy asked as he turned the music down and sped out of the parking lot, his hand high on the steering wheel. I wanted to ask him to use both hands, to be more careful, but I knew better. I’d all ready asked enough.
We drove in silence besides the quiet hum on the radio of the metal station he had been listening to. The sun still high in the sky, but oranger and brighter than it was earlier, leaning towards it’s nightly setting. The traffic as we edged towards the East side picking up, the commute slower than usual. It was all ready 6:01pm and the coffee shop was still at least five minutes away in days with much less traffic.
“Should I text Ivy?” I asked, breaking the silence. “Let her know we’ll be late?”
“Let Ivy know we’ll be late?” Roddy smirked his crooked smile as he tapped the steering wheel with his hands like he was drumming to the music. “Telling Ivy we’re going to be late would be like telling a swimming pool we might be a little wet. Ivy’s a habitual late attendee to all things big or small. Do you even know Ivy?”
“Not really,” I sighed as I stared out the window, watching the cars next to us, slowly making their way to the next destination.
“Oh,” Roddy said, inching the car closer to the one in front, still stuck at a red traffic light.
“We just got paired up for this stupid assignment. I can’t really say I know her,” I tried to find the right words, the ones that didn’t expose her as the biggest pain in my ass I’d ever met. For some reason, Roddy liked her. Who knows why?
“Ivy is...well, Ivy,” Roddy said as he pulled the car into a parking space in front of the cafe where we would be meeting up with Ivy. “She’s kind of like a fine whiskey.”
“A fine whiskey?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “Don’t you mean a fine wine?”
“No, a fine whiskey. A fine whiskey is rare, it’s not for everyone,” Roddy said, turning the ignition off of the car. “But there are some people who take the time to enjoy it’s taste, to learn how to savor it. But you know what?”
“What?”
“That shit still burns.”
Thanks for those who keep baring with me. I see you. You're not unnoticed. -love much and read often-xoxo JA
Roddy was waiting for me as I opened the car door, the music blaring loud enough to drown out the sound of his drumming against the steering wheel, the blue in his hair shimmering under the dim light of the opened car door.
“Sorry,” I said as I got in, slamming the door behind me. The smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming.
“No worries, we still got time,” he took a drag of his lit cigarette and blew the smoke out his open window. “Ivy won’t hurt us...much.”
“Do you mind putting that out?” I asked, feigning to wave the smoke from the cigarette away from my face. “I just don’t want to smell like a chimney when I get home tonight.”
“Oh, god, yeah,” Roddy flicked the cigarette out the open window. “I’m sorry. I totally wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s ok,” I shouted over the death metal song that was playing, all screams and screeching guitars. “Do you think you can turn the music down a bit, maybe?”
“Anything else?” Roddy asked as he turned the music down and sped out of the parking lot, his hand high on the steering wheel. I wanted to ask him to use both hands, to be more careful, but I knew better. I’d all ready asked enough.
We drove in silence besides the quiet hum on the radio of the metal station he had been listening to. The sun still high in the sky, but oranger and brighter than it was earlier, leaning towards it’s nightly setting. The traffic as we edged towards the East side picking up, the commute slower than usual. It was all ready 6:01pm and the coffee shop was still at least five minutes away in days with much less traffic.
“Should I text Ivy?” I asked, breaking the silence. “Let her know we’ll be late?”
“Let Ivy know we’ll be late?” Roddy smirked his crooked smile as he tapped the steering wheel with his hands like he was drumming to the music. “Telling Ivy we’re going to be late would be like telling a swimming pool we might be a little wet. Ivy’s a habitual late attendee to all things big or small. Do you even know Ivy?”
“Not really,” I sighed as I stared out the window, watching the cars next to us, slowly making their way to the next destination.
“Oh,” Roddy said, inching the car closer to the one in front, still stuck at a red traffic light.
“We just got paired up for this stupid assignment. I can’t really say I know her,” I tried to find the right words, the ones that didn’t expose her as the biggest pain in my ass I’d ever met. For some reason, Roddy liked her. Who knows why?
“Ivy is...well, Ivy,” Roddy said as he pulled the car into a parking space in front of the cafe where we would be meeting up with Ivy. “She’s kind of like a fine whiskey.”
“A fine whiskey?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “Don’t you mean a fine wine?”
“No, a fine whiskey. A fine whiskey is rare, it’s not for everyone,” Roddy said, turning the ignition off of the car. “But there are some people who take the time to enjoy it’s taste, to learn how to savor it. But you know what?”
“What?”
“That shit still burns.”
Thanks for those who keep baring with me. I see you. You're not unnoticed. -love much and read often-xoxo JA