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Thursday Night Write

March 25, 2010

Time for another edition of Thursday Night Write!! But first, a couple quick notes.

Author Melissa Walker just featured the Prophecy and Guardian covers on her Cover Stories feature, so if you’re looking for all the dirt on how and why the cover change came about, take a look!

And speaking of covers, the Prophecy paperback and Guardian of the Gate covers are up official-like on Amazon, B&N, and Borders.com. They are GORGEOUS, if I do say so myself, and I’m super excited to see them out in the world.

Lastly, I had an amazing time at the Teen Author Festival last week, including the Five Borough Read with authors Micol Ostow, Shani Petroff, Abby Sher, and Robyn Schneider. What was super awesome is that the kids couldn’t make it to the library at the last minute, so we booked it over to their school and surprised them by doing our read on the premises. 😀 Sunday at Books of Wonder was just as awesome. I was especially happy to see Jon Skovron (Struts and Frets), Shani (Bedeviled), Neesha Meminger (Shine Coconut Moon), and Michael Northrup (Gentlemen), and to meet Melissa Walker (Lovestruck Summer), Elizabeth Eulberg (The Lonely Hearts Club), and Elizabeth Scott (Living Dead Girl) among so many others. It was a fantastic event, and a HUGE thank you goes to author and editor extraordinaire, David Levithan, for organizing it all.

As for Thursday Night Write, the same rules apply; give yourself no more than 30 minutes (no cheating!) to write something – ANYTHING! – inspired by the picture at left. Then post your piece for comment. Don’t forget to comment at least one other entry if you post one of your own.

Oh! And those of you who participate in Thursday Night Write somewhat regularly (or have in the past) will soon be receiving a very special invitation from me…

😉

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57 Comments leave one →
  1. March 28, 2010 12:03 am

    The only sound that could be heard along the dingy street was panting of a woman’s ragged breath as she hurried over the cobblestone, cradling her newborn in her arms. She knew not where she was going, but only that she had to go. They would be here soon and she could not be found. They would kill her or, worse, kill her precious daughter. She had to find safety, but where could she go? There was no one who would take her in now. They were all too afraid; too afraid of him. He had them all in his hands; it was his game. She was merely a pawn; as were they all. She was coming into light now, but she knew it would hinder her more than help. Footsteps could be heard coming behind her. No, they were almost her. She stopped and looked around, hoping for something to hide her. A door! There, beside her, attached to the brick building to her left. She hurried to it and ducked inside and closed it behind her. The baby stirred, as if she knew they were in danger. Outside, she could hear the men, but all she could do now was wait; wait until they found her, hiding in this hole. The baby began to cry. That was it; they would find them. “Shh, Assandra, please. They will find us,” she whispered in a thick Irish accent. “Please, child, do not cry.” She finally shushed the baby, just as the door creaked open.

  2. March 26, 2010 11:42 pm

    haha, delayed post, but atleast i remembered this week :p

    ———————————-

    i’m grinning like a hyena,
    metallic teeth exposed,
    dripping saliva in a puddle on the floor.

    my hair is matted and tangled, draped across my manic grin and muddy brown eyes. my shoulder blades stick out in sharp angles against my back, and my nose is just slightly crooked. i’ve got scars raking up my forearms, and you’re sure that you wanna try and tame this chick?

    i’d turn tail and run if i were you.

    you don’t know about the boys i’ve devoured whole. the ones that begged for mercy as i licked my lips and told them that they were good enough to eat. literally.

    i’m picking splinters of their frail bones out of between my crooked teeth, tossing them over my shoulder. if you look across the room from me, you’ll see a half-gnawed tibia, remnants of my last meal.

    but at the same time, i can be quite civilised. i know how to put on a perfect if not slightly crazy smile, and i tuck contact lenses over my eyes so you don’t see the essence of a predator that lurks there.

    i can walk and talk like a human, something i’m quite proud of.

    but seeing as i like you, i’ll let you in on a little secret. boy, i’m just like any other girl out there in this world.

    i’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful

    • Rebekah permalink
      March 27, 2010 12:57 am

      Wow. I mean, jeez. I’m utterly stunned, seriously. The images and the…. everything, language, words, feel, all of it, was amazing.

      • March 27, 2010 2:39 pm

        Woah. i really liked it. i mean, it was creepy, but the way you wrote it, the detail, everything! just… woah

      • March 27, 2010 10:17 pm

        haha, thank youu rebekah and meagan! :]
        i wanted to write a piece that had a feel like this, just needed one to add to my collection. i also wanted to point out the similarities between girls and wild animals, because if you take the time to look for them, you’ll find them. :]

  3. Anthony Galazzo permalink
    March 26, 2010 10:04 pm

    Sorry I havn’t posted in a while, but here is a continuation of something from a previous week.

    __________________________________________________________________

    “This is it,” my mind races as we approach the edge of the earth. The tree-lined dirt path strings along behind us, but in front there is nothing, save for a long drop that would push even the most daring nerves.

    I can hear the rushing brook below and the cool water pounding along the steep banks with a god-like intensity. There’s no time to think, but a moment’s pause allows my eyes to wander over to my side.
    Words are not necessary. As I stare into the stoned eyes of a stranger, she locks into my gaze. The same haunting beat of horses’ feet running full-speed toward our rear echoes in my brain. Each hoofbeat speeds up my blood, until the irresponsive legs beneath me finally regain life.

    With teeth clenched and eyes forced open, we run past the edge of the forest. Past the dark treeline. Past the border between safety and the fiendish overseers who have stripped us of our souls. This is our one last attempt at life, so we jump.

    It’s a long fall, but my mind recalls nothing; nothing but the feeling of my hand holding hers- hanging tight onto a perfect stranger. In truth, she and I have never been permitted to speak to one another, making us no more than mere acquaintances. But she’s more than just a face to me- every look we had ever given each other was like a thousand words… so I hold tighter.

    • March 26, 2010 11:49 pm

      i really like these lines, “It’s a long fall, but my mind recalls nothing; nothing but the feeling of my hand holding hers- hanging tight onto a perfect stranger.” they really give me a sense of what it was like for him at that moment in time, that there was this girl who he had never spoken to, and yet they were pushed together.

      “… [S]he’s more than just a face to me- every look we had ever given each other was like a thousand words… so I hold tighter.” these complement the other sentence perfectly, letting the reader know that there is a connection between these two strangers. that maybe furtive glances and kind smiles were exchanged in the past. :]

      keep up the wonderful writing, anthony!

    • Rebekah permalink
      March 27, 2010 12:59 am

      Mmmm…. beautiful voice. And imagery. Can’t wait to see where this goes!

  4. March 26, 2010 6:24 pm

    Yay for finding a way to incorporate a Thursday Night Write prompt into one of my projects! hehe (Just so you know, this project I’m referring to is about a girl trying to recover her childhood memories that were so frightening she blocked out…so…this is one of her memories, I guess).

    ————–

    A nearly empty street, her father gripping her hand tight and leading her quickly past the closed shops and stands. Chloe didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. She wondered vaguely where her mother was, but something in the way her father was acting made her stop. He was confusing her, worrying her, scaring her. They turned another corner and stopped. Chloe looked up at her father and watched as he looked around frantically. She could tell he was feigning calm. It was something in his stance, in his face, the way he looked around quickly but smiled at the few passers-by. As a young couple walked by, smiling fondly at the father and daughter, Chloe finally got up the courage to talk.

    “Daddy, where’s Mommy?” she whispered.

    He hushed her and waited for the couple to get out of earshot. “She’s not here, Chloe.”

    “Why?”

    “You can’t ask these questions anymore.”

    “Why?”

    They started walking again, passing under a tree and then an awning. They had turned another corner before he answered. “Mommy is gone.”

    Chloe, deep down in her little six-year-old heart, knew this wasn’t true. She knew her mother was right where she’d always been, was somewhere wearing the sweatshirt and the ponytail and the warm smile. She knew that what was wrong in this picture was the fact that she and her father were hurrying away. She knew there was something strange in how hard he was clutching her hand, in how sharp they were taking the corners. She knew, most of all, that there was something weird about the fact that she didn’t know where she was.

    “Then let’s go home,” Chloe whispered.

    This was the last straw and Chloe gasped in fear and pain as her father pushed her up against a brick wall, bending down to look her directly in the eye. “She’s gone. You’re never to talk about her again.”

    The brick scratched Chloe’s back and she held back the tears. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. She nodded and they continued on their way.

    • March 26, 2010 9:39 pm

      Wow! This is intense!
      I like this:

      Chloe, deep down in her little six-year-old heart, knew this wasn’t true. She knew her mother was right where she’d always been, was somewhere wearing the sweatshirt and the ponytail and the warm smile.

    • Rebekah permalink
      March 27, 2010 1:00 am

      This really is intense, Erin. It’s so powerful…. tell us more! Great job!

    • March 27, 2010 11:52 pm

      Wow, very powerful. I enjoyed reading it; although it nearly brought a tear to my eye. I look forward to reading other posts from you.

  5. March 26, 2010 12:53 am

    I’m totally winging this one since it’d take me a while to sort through all of my stories to find a scene that’d work in that setting 🙂

    EXT. COBBLESTONE STREET. NIGHT. 1886.

    ANDRICK (eighteen with dark, curly hair, green eyes, and wearing a slightly unbuttoned oxford, and relaxed brown pants) circles around the corner, ushering along with him VENETIA (seventeen with long, brown hair, golden brown eyes, and a brown school girl’s clothes with torn stockings). Venetia looks nettled.

    VENETIA:
    I can see myself up, thank you.

    ANDRICK:
    How’s your hand?

    VENETIA:
    It still hurts. My father will call a maid, please, don’t worry about it.

    ANDRICK:
    I can help. Let me see.

    VENETIA:
    Really, it’s not…

    ANDRICK:
    If the wound does not get treated quickly, it will get worse.

    VENETIA:
    If you must.

    He opens up a canteen strapped around his arm and gently holds onto her hand, whose palm has several burn marks. He pours some water on it. It stings for a second, but the pain soon ebbs. He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wraps her hand.

    ANDRICK:
    How does that feel?

    VENETIA:
    It feels good. Uh, better.

    There is an awkward pause, and Venetia suddenly feels embarassed. Before Andrick can say anything, ARACHNE (a man with the head of monster and wearing a monk’s robe) appears out of the darkness and stands before them.

    • March 26, 2010 6:19 pm

      Intriguing scene. I love the character names. Nicely done!

    • March 26, 2010 6:27 pm

      I like this. I’m very interested in finding out what’s going on. Your characters, even in this little bit, seem very real to me. I love the awkwardness at the end. It’s so subtle (the difference between “good” and “better”), but it’s definitely one of those awkward wording moments that I think everyone is familiar with. Good job!

  6. March 26, 2010 12:09 am

    Hello! I haven’t submitted anything the last couple of weeks. I’ve been sick, packing and now adjusting to the time shift and current heat wave of Oz. I’m a time traveler. I’ve seen the future. 😉

    I have been reading all the posts and look forward to next week when I can contribute again!

    Keep writing,

    Danielle

  7. mak...XD permalink
    March 25, 2010 9:26 pm

    this poem i wrote to get anger out of me….i like venting this way…no matter how gruesome i get……………..

    Bash ’em! Kill ’em all! We all deserve to
    DIE.
    Humans are heartless. I am soul-less.
    No life! No consideration! Yet
    I feel emotion.
    Hatred yet
    Lust and Love.
    It’s all false.

    Daggar. So sleek and graceful in its
    sharpness. No. You don’t have to hide. Stealthy one.
    Slide it around a neck and pull hard.
    It squirms, doesn’t it? Stab it and
    Rip it open.
    Feast your eyes on the sight of
    Death.
    Feast your nose on the scent of
    Blood.
    Feast your lips to the taste of
    Fear,
    Of blood.
    Satisfied? Never.
    Feast your ears on the sounds of its
    Screaming. Begging you to stop.

    But stop, do you? Never.
    Kill it,
    Even when it is dead.

    • March 26, 2010 2:59 pm

      Ok, wow. That may be all i can say! Totally gruesome! But AMAZING too! Theres just something about, its really great 🙂

      • mak...XD permalink
        March 26, 2010 3:12 pm

        thank you….anger is such a genuine emotion….dont you think?
        (friends are back-stabbers…..don’t trust ANYONE)

    • March 26, 2010 6:53 pm

      Wow! That’s a rush! Nicely done!

    • Anthony Galazzo permalink
      March 26, 2010 10:11 pm

      I can definitely feel the emotion in this! And I like how it is structured, especially here:

      “Feast your eyes on the sight of
      Death.
      Feast your nose on the scent of
      Blood.
      Feast your lips to the taste of
      Fear”

      [[Death/blood/fear. Eyes/nose/lips. Sight/scent/taste.]]

      • mak...XD permalink
        March 27, 2010 10:47 am

        tnx…i really meant this part to be strongest in the entire poem. glad you took notice of it!!!!

    • Rebekah permalink
      March 27, 2010 1:02 am

      Wow this is amazing! I really felt the anger, especially with the questions. Beautiful, in an awesomely gruesome way.

      • mak...XD permalink
        March 27, 2010 7:09 am

        you all felt that anger because it was really there…..sometimes people produce the best pieces of work when they are venting….this is the case with me.
        thank you!!!!

  8. March 25, 2010 8:57 pm

    Hey Michelle, hope your week is good! 🙂 Heres what I came up with for your promt (That is a BEAUTIFUL picture by the way!)….

    Tap!…Tap!…Tap!
    The cobblestone sounds
    As I walk through this sleep town.
    The only thing lighting the street
    Is a measley light,
    Dimmer than a lightning bug.

    My footsteps quicken,
    Purely from my own paranoia.
    I smile slightly at the
    Beautiful green leaves
    That seem to grow from everywhere.

    I look around at the simplicity
    And beauty of this place.
    It’s just so peaceful, welcoming.

    All my stresses fall away,
    Like a snake shedding skin.

    And as I walk,

    I wonder why people
    Are no longer this welcoming.
    I wonder why we are
    Less peaceful than we used
    To be.

    I take one last,
    Long look at the stars.
    At this positively gorgeous town,
    Be fore I go in my rented room.

    And I wonder,

    Why can’t the world
    Be as peaceful and simple,
    As this here town?

    Any comments welcome! 🙂

    • mak...XD permalink
      March 26, 2010 3:16 pm

      B-E-A-UTIFUL!!!!! i love the imagery in this and it makes me calm all through…..and the end really has me thinking about the world and how it is today……i can really picture myself walking through a street like that and reminds me of my trip to Curacao with my mom…..again, i loved it!!!! ❤

    • March 26, 2010 9:31 pm

      I love this! Some stand out lines for me are:

      Dimmer than a lightning bug.

      All my stresses fall away,
      Like a snake shedding skin.

    • Rebekah permalink
      March 27, 2010 1:03 am

      Hmmm I got a sense of peacefulness reading this (is that what’s supposed to happen?). The imagery is beautiful, and the question a very valid one. Great job!

  9. Rhia permalink
    March 25, 2010 8:30 pm

    I have been so scatter brained lately, I keep missing this. I don’t even know when it changed from open mic night to TNW… Ohwell, maybe next week. Really nice work everyone!

  10. Elly permalink
    March 25, 2010 7:43 pm

    I ran down the lit cobblestone street, the sound of my feet hitting the ground echoing around me. My auburn hair covered my face as I hastily tucked it behind my ear, though I knew it wouldn’t stay there for long.
    The entire city was asleep—literally. The new government that took over only four years ago made the town all dull, boring, and gave a curfew; one that I was breaking right now. I had to get away, though No one believed that there was a land outside, even though everyone had seen it! They called me psychotic and said I belonged in a mental institute. Even my own parents said so. The only person I had on my side was Art, my best friend in the entire world.
    Coming to a halt, my feet scuffed the ground and, panicked, I looked for any sign of guards coming to take me away. They’d been following me for the past mile or so before I narrowly escaped.
    I looked up at one of the Victorian houses before me, and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on. All the houses were the exact same. Each house had only two bedrooms, two bathrooms, one large kitchen, a standard size dining room, and a living room. It scared me a little knowing they demolished all the unique houses and built the same house over and over. Faintly, I remembered that this neighborhood was where a ton of empty fields once were. And now they were replaced with houses and shops. Despicable.
    I whistled three times and waited for Art to jump out of his window, ready to run for it. While waiting, I tied my hair back into a sloppy ponytail with the rubber band I kept on my wrist for times such as these. When I didn’t see Art’s red head peek out of the window, I began to fret. What if the guards got him? What if they knew that I was planning to escape tonight? What if Art turned me in? Stop it, Lanae, don’t be so pessimistic.
    “Over here!” Someone whispered loudly and turning towards an empty fruit stand, I smiled. Art had already gotten out of his house. I must’ve been late or he didn’t wait to take any chances.
    We hugged for only a moment before we heard them. Their black combat boots made louder sounds then my sneakers on the cobblestone making them not so sneaky. I inclined my head at Art and we began running.
    The lights that cast an eerie orange glow on the streets were far behind us now as I breathed in the scent of freedom. Smiling at Art, I began to scream with joy as I ran throgh the wet grass that was lit only by the moon.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 25, 2010 8:01 pm

      I really like the world you’re building here, especially because it’s an echo of the one we have now and the increasing homogenization of virtually everything. You paint an eerie picture without going overboard, which is a great skill to have!

      I also like the little details like;

      “I tied my hair back into a sloppy ponytail…”

      and

      “…though I knew it wouldn’t stay there for long.”

      Those kinds of things contribute to good characterization.

      Nicely don, hon!

      MZ

      • Elly permalink
        March 25, 2010 8:07 pm

        Thank-you!

    • March 25, 2010 8:34 pm

      REALLY liked this. It makes me want to know more–why did the goverment do this, what kind of world are they living in that it was so easily allowed to happen? What happens next??? Loved it–Michelle is right, the little details brings the character to life, and it’s very well done. Would love to read more of this world and these two.

      • Elly permalink
        March 25, 2010 8:52 pm

        Thanks! I might end up writing more about them and that world if I can drag myself out of my other story for TNW long enough to focus on them.

    • March 26, 2010 6:33 pm

      I really like this! You do such a great job building the world your character is living in and bringing it to life for the reader. Very vivid! 🙂

    • March 26, 2010 9:27 pm

      Elly-

      I really enjoyed this. There’s a rush of excitement from the narrator. This scene creates a lot of questions about how the world got to this point and why no one tries to escape, etc.

      It’s an interesting setup and one I hope you continue with!

  11. jessicatroxell permalink
    March 25, 2010 7:37 pm

    Though the buildings of the ally were blocking it, the air was still cold, shivering me to the bone.
    The night sky loomed above the only light was the street lights.
    Walking alone in an ally I did not know of was dangrous even for a gil like me, but it was the shortest way back home and I had I time I was suppose to be there.
    I knew my mom was going to kill me anyway, because tonight was a school night.

    Suddenly the cold wind became even colder. The ally lights became dimmer.
    Then out of the corner of my dark blue eyes, I saw a strange figure.
    It came closer, letting me see that it was a man. He was still in the dark shadows of the ally, but i knew he was very pale.

    Then suddenly i knew i wasn’t going to make it home to reach my bed time.

    • jessicatroxell permalink
      March 25, 2010 7:45 pm

      ugh this sucks 😦 i dint even get my punctuation right 😦 i don’t like it just forget i ever done it…..

      • michellezinkbooks permalink*
        March 25, 2010 7:57 pm

        Aw, hon! Don’t say that! This is a safe place for you to come and share your writing.

        I liked your piece because I really got a sense for the atmosphere. I could feel the chill in the air and see the shadows lurking around the building. That’s all GREAT stuff!

        Come back and share again, okay?

        MZ

      • jessicatroxell permalink
        March 25, 2010 9:07 pm

        thank you 🙂 soooo much and i will thanks

    • March 26, 2010 9:19 pm

      Jessica-

      Don’t be so hard on yourself. It takes a lot of courage to share a piece of ourselves with others. You did a great job with this prompt. I could feel the cold air and the growing fear of the character.

      Nicely done!

  12. March 25, 2010 5:15 pm

    Here we go. Inspired to write what now fits into the backstory of a character from the unwritten sequel to a completed novel. Confused? So am I.

    ———————–

    He clutched the make-shift stake so hard splinters embedded themselves in his skin. His other hand was empty, held over his heart as if to keep it from bursting in fear. His lips moved in silent prayer as he tried to quietly make his way down the streets. His shoes made a shuffling sound against the stones; the sound was as deafening as the blood pounding in his ears.

    Blood. That was what they wanted.

    Blood. That was why they had to be stopped.

    Something moved in the corner of his vision. A door opened, and a shadow appeared. Then the shadow became a man – the man he was seeking. The man who came into town, strange little boy in tow, and never left his room during the day. He was pale, and the maid reported that he was cold, and he never came to church.

    While the maid never officially mentioned the bite marks on her neck he knew that was what she was hiding. That was the confirmation he had needed.

    And that was why the hunted was now stalking the hunter.

    The monster saw him, smiled… then turned and walked back into the house. He made a point of leaving the door open. An invitation.

    He could not pass up such an invitation. Perhaps if he had not been so eager to slay the monster he would have wondered why it would have let him get this far, and so easily. But instead all his thoughts were consumed with the deed he would have to do, and the rewards he would reap after.

    The monster would not touch her again. And she would be so grateful to her hero. How could she not love him after that?

    Inside the room was like a tomb, even more silent than the streets outside. It was just him, the monster and the strange little boy.

    The child was the first to speak. Its accent was odd, and the language one he did not hear outside of church – he knew enough of it to understand what the boy was saying. “Father.” It was the whine of an impatient child, a child told to wait by a parent. The boy looked… hungry.

    The monster placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, then nodded at the one who had come to kill him. “It seems you know what we are. I had hoped that we would leave without it having to come to this. The dead always make a mess of things.”

    “Abomination!” he spat, raising the stake with both hands. He almost looked like a threat.

    “You really should not have come alone,” the monster said after a moment’s consideration. “You really should not have come at all. But I suppose that cannot be helped now.”

    “Father,” whined the child again. “I am hungry.” He fidgeted under the monster’s firm hold.

    “Well, at least it is a good thing you are here now. A man has to feed his child one way or another.” He let go of the boy.

    The boy smiled, revealing two long fangs.

    The main merely sighed. After all, what good would screaming do?

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 25, 2010 5:21 pm

      Ooooo! Eerie and creepy and dark. Just the way I like my fiction!
      😀

      I really love how the little descriptions you add create imagery. You make it easy to see clearly something as simple as this;

      “Father,” whined the child again. “I am hungry.” He fidgeted under the monster’s firm hold.

      Very nicely done.

      MZ

    • March 25, 2010 6:45 pm

      Your descriptions are always so vivid! I liked how this builds: Something moved in the corner of his vision. A door opened, and a shadow appeared. Then the shadow became a man – the man he was seeking.

      Well done!

    • Elly permalink
      March 25, 2010 8:12 pm

      All the descriptions are really good and overall, this is very well written. It kind of reminds me of a book I read last month, but I can’t remember the title. I like reading something that reminds me something else.

      • March 25, 2010 8:27 pm

        Wow, this was really great!! You write so vividly, such great detail that lets you picture everything!! I especially love the endding line, it made me giggle 🙂

    • March 25, 2010 8:30 pm

      Oh, very nice. I love backstories on characters, but now I wanna know more…. as has been pointed out, lovely description, and the tension is really nice. Great work!!

      • March 25, 2010 8:36 pm

        Thanks. This character (the adult male) is one of my favourites. So it’s nice to be briefly inspired to write a little more about him, even just a snapshot.

  13. March 25, 2010 4:22 pm

    We stumbled through the streets, and I tried again to shush them. I wondered, through the haze of laughter and alcohol, what time it was. I knew it was late. I knew the sleeping citizens of this foreign city would not appreciate our ruckus laughter.

    Too much wine at dinner. But Amanda had been laughing and teasing, flirting with the oh-so-handsome waiter, and wine spilled like secrets, as they always did when we were together.

    Or how, time had been, once, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

    Maybe that’s why. Why I had not imposed my voice of reason and cut the girls off. Why I had agreed to this to begin with—celebrating. Amanda and I had reached this level, the dream we all aspired to, years before, but Maggie—she had been slower. Her doubts in herself had held her back despite our support, our nudging. She was always content. Content to enjoy our success and sketch the representation of our imaginations brought to life.

    I knew we made a strange threesome—we always had. But we were built on a common love, a dream that brought us together and was mortared by friendship and tragedy and life until the bricks that made us individuals, melded together to form something so solid, so inseparable, it was like the ancient walls of the city around us.

    When Davis told us, I’d been terrified. Because Maggie and Amanda had been distant with each other. Since the early fall, and that drunken night in Atlanta, they had barely spoken.

    I felt like a survivor of an earthquake, one I had seen coming and been unable to stop. It rattled the foundations of our life. And I was left wondering, would we recover? Could we? Then came this—a trip alone, to the countryside of Italy, a retreat that he said we deserved. A chance to heal wounds—if we were strong enough.

    And now, we were here. I lagged behind my friends, my sisters, and Amanda’s strap slipped from her shoulder. I smiled, my hand going reflexively to my neck, where my Celtic knot sat, the same tattoo both of them had.

    In the morning, I knew, there would still be questions. There would be doubt and hurt and fear.

    “Tasha,” their voice melded, twisting together, as they turned to look at me. I started, unconscious that I had stopped.

    I summoned a smile, sloppy and a little drunk, but sincere and honest. Saw the recognition in both their eyes. As I hurried to take my place beside them, I shoved aside the fear that had plagued me that we would not survive this, that we would shatter under the weight of the betrayal.

    Tomorrow, we would talk, and rage, and cry. Tonight, our friendship was strong and we were what we had always been—friends, sisters, soul-mates bound by a dream that we chased together.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 25, 2010 4:36 pm

      Nazarea! This is MAGIC. Magic!!!

      Damn. That was fast, too! It’s almost impossible to pick a favorite line because it’s all so good, but one of them would have to be;

      I felt like a survivor of an earthquake, one I had seen coming and been unable to stop. It rattled the foundations of our life. And I was left wondering, would we recover? Could we?

      You guys! Nazarea has a book out called Faith’s Friendship. If you like this, you have to check it out.

      Nicely done, you.

      MZ

      PS. I received my copy of Faith's Friendship and as soon as I'm done with the book I'm in the middle of, it's next on my list. Can't wait!

      • March 25, 2010 5:24 pm

        *blush* Thanks….you pick perfect picture to get Muse moving. 🙂

        And thanks for the shout out!! If anyone wants to check out Faith’s Friendship, my site is http://www.nazarea-andrews.com

        I really hope you like it, lady! (Also…I may have super exciting news to share sometime soon… 🙂

    • March 25, 2010 8:13 pm

      Ooh, really like this. Some brilliant lines in here. Like Michelle I really like the earthquake bit. Definitely the bit that stuck out as best for me.

    • March 26, 2010 8:58 pm

      This was beautiful. Love the way you write. You paint an amazing picture and intrigue me with all that is happening!

  14. mak...XD permalink
    March 25, 2010 4:08 pm

    oh darn….i thought TNW was gonna be later…….can i post a poem AND do a flash fiction?
    time’s not on my side atm….<3

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 25, 2010 4:08 pm

      Sure, hon! Whatever makes you happy!
      😀

      MZ

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