Whether you made yourself emotional, or scared, or anything else, so long as you made yourself feel something for real when you wrote it. (feel free to share more than one excerpt, but preferably not all at once.)
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Tonight is colder than it has any right to be. Snow glitters under my worn-out boots like a thousand fallen stars, and my feet go numb through the soles - through the stockings. I feel soggy and gray, stamping against the sidewalk to keep from freezing while we wait for the traffic to slow down enough to cross the street. Everyoneâs in a hurry to be somewhere - maybe restaurants, maybe parties - I wouldnât put it past them, even on a weeknight.
What I wouldnât give to be home alreadyâŚ
âWell, the left wing looks cute,â Shannon smiles, âAnd itâs about time. For people who work in art, the staff sure had some gaudy tastes.â
I smile a little in spite of myself, but it feels like a hairline crack, spreading outward from my lips in a thin, crooked line.
âIt does seem a little redundant to decorate a museum. I guess they wanted to make a big show out of it since itâs the first new exhibit in a while. Still, it was definitely a good thing we got to give our opinion before opening day. Those streamers wereâŚâ I just shake my head, and let out a long slow breath, watching it blossom into a white cloud in the blackness in front of me. I breathe in the frozen night and the heaviness resettles.
Itâs too late.
I so donât want to cook when I get home, but Iâve burned through my leftovers, and thereâs been no time to bake anything. I donât want to bathe. I donât want to move. Iâd go to sleep here on the street corner if I wouldnât freeze to death.
âOnly a week left,â Shannon says, crossing his arms against the cold âYou excited yet?â
âMaybe tomorrow. Iâm too exhausted to be much of anything right now,â I start to sigh but catch myself, and force a smile, âWeâve been working way too much overtime these daysâŚâ
âWell, itâs done now.â he smiles, shaking his head at the reminder, with a hearty sigh, before turning and grinning in my direction, âWhy donât we celebrate? We could go grab a bite to eat somewhere.â
âOhhhâŚâ I hesitate. I donât really feel up to going anywhere, but the idea of making dinner at 9:00 p.m. isnât too appealing eitherâŚ
âI donât want to go anywhere far,â I say slowly, like my lips are resisting the words. âIâm so tired of walking...â
âItâs not far,â he smiles assuringly. âThereâs a place just around the corner.â
I relent and allow myself to follow him, trying not to imagine what Kattar would think if he knew. Shannon stays on the outside of the sidewalk, by the curb, shielding me from the wind, and matches his pace to mine. His huge shadow seems to radiate heat rather than add to the cold. Iâm drenched, or maybe swamped, in its weight.
We pass down the slippery stretch of sidewalk, glazed with ice and dusted with snow like a cloyingly thick layer of powdered sugar, and turn off the main road into a side street that looks like a neighborhood.
Alicia.
Something chews at my anxiety as we stray further and further from anything that resembles a business. Row Houses loom over me like giants with big, sticky shadows, heavier than Shannonâs, blocking out the stars and the city light - now too far away. My heart rate accelerates, but without thinking I slow my pace, like Iâm moving through quicksand.
We come to a stop in front of a large, two-story row house - gray on the sides with a vivid false front of rose-red bricks.
My heart drops into my stomach so forcefully it almost knocks me to my knees, but I force myself to remain standing and ask warily, trying to keep my voice steady, and firm.
âShannon, what are we doing here? Did you forget something?â
âYeah, candles.â he laughs, sliding his arm around my waist, âBut you can do without right?â
Oh god.
My blood turns to ice - turns to a thousand tiny daggers piercing through the skin-
I legit scared myself a little bit with this chapter.
