I’m supposed to be writing an ending line for this chapter.
I started searching quotes about death and shocking events, hoping someone had once shrieked a similar quote to, “YOU KILLED HER!!!!” Just… something nice and simple and horrified like that. But noooo.
I got frustrated. So I decided to type out my frustrations on this new little toy my fellow writerly friend sent me. (I know she’s just jealous of all my new one-shots and is hoping this will distract me from finishing anything ever again. IT’S WORKING, KIT!! ARE YOU HAPPEH NOW!??! Sorry. I do love her. Reeaaallly, I do.)
The site is oneword.com
Go ahead. Punch in it. I daaaare you.
So today’s word (which I chose to vent on) was basic. That’s the word: basic.
It made me think of underwear. Which made me think of how nice it is to not have to wear work clothes while at home. Which made me think of this lovely shirt I bought myself for sleeping in.
It’s kind of like this:
But it’s faaaar more pretty and soft (yes, I can tell softness by pictures, thankyouverymuch) and the sleeves are more… long, drapey, open… ness with the crochet design scooping down across the back.
Right! Getting back to my point! (This is why it takes me so long to write one line.)
This all is going through my head in the matter of seconds it takes me to realize that if I don’t start typing, my time (60 seconds) is going to run out without a single word put down. Then I did this:
She lay there, a picture of perfect ease and contentment. A breeze wafted through, passing over her prostrate form, sending lovely little bumps up and down her arms from the cold air her butterfly-winged sleeves let in. Her shirt was just long enough to cover the tops of her knees. He thought it the best gift he’d ever given her.
They let me finish the last sentence. :) How nice of them. I did that in 60 seconds! Amazing that I can type that much when under pressure! But apparently, even when I write for myself a “he” gets thrown in. Sheesh. Maybe the part of me that buys myself presents is male. :P I love my drapey shirt!
Basic, to me, means pretty shirts purchased solely for sleeping in. It’s a basic need.
Oh, and this was the only other entry for the word I really liked
To shoot to kill. That was the basic idea of the mission, and yet somehow I had managed to screw it up within seconds. A shot to the target’s shoulder was all I managed from my position, much to my own shame and humiliation. I’d be paid in full for this later.
By the way, I got the ending line. I didn’t write it. Supreme Co-Author did. :P