I just passed p. 200 in my WIP, ~45,000 words by computer count.

Woo! This thing might actually become a book!

go Susan!

Drabble for "almost there."

She can’t bring herself to throw the calendar away, but she doesn’t look at it anymore. It hangs inside the pantry, facing the creamed corn and the laundry bluing.

There are few ways to pass the time. (“I’m not sure children will be possible.” Solemn physician’s face in the pale light.) She’s started baking. Watching the bread rise through the oven window, she doesn’t think about him, where the fighting is, or the things she can’t give him when (if) he comes home.

The top of the bread is buttery gold now. “Almost there,” she whispers.

that is beautiful

Thanks!

Very nice, Amy! You've inspired me to try one.

The soft thud of the wheels hitting the runway woke Lee Ann and she stirred and twisted her head to take in what the window had to offer. It wasn’t much, the warm gray Hilo drizzle shrouding the scene, but she could see the tips of coconut trees reaching up through the mist. She tugged at her sweater, pulled it over her head and caught a glance of her pale skin and smiled.

Home. It had been 43 years, but she was almost there.

Very nice, java! Yay for writing!

Almost Home

“Is this your fault?”
I stand awkwardly, hip shot, clutching my purse in tight hands. “What?”
“I’m still alive.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“They brought me back. Again. I told those fuckers and told them, ‘don’t bring me back!’ but they won’t stop. They won’t stop.” He pulled on the tubes, rattled the leads, made the machines beep.
“I didn’t do it.”
“Did you pray?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I bet Dad did. Next time I just won’t let her bring me to the hospital. I was almost.” He finally looked me in the eye and whispered. “Almost there.”

Oh, man, are you guys pulling out all the stops today! Love those all.