On a side not, I have 14k words to go, but I think I'm roughly halfway through the story that's developing. I can't tell if my pacing is slow, or my intentions have grown...
Felix tried the large brass door knob. “Locked,” he announced, and moved to peer into one of the grimy front windows. With his sleeve, he rubbed away dirt, leaving a clear porthole in the glass through which he could see an expanse of hardwood floor and the edge of a rug. The dim shapes of furniture crouched in the gloom beyond like artifacts in an undisturbed tomb.
“This is a might creepy,” Clarence said. “I don’t care for houses so quiet.”
Alexa was on the porch, moving with ease over the creaking boards. “Let me open the door for you,” she said brightly.
“Can you pick locks or something?” Felix asked, impressed.
“Of course,” she answered, and heaved a brick through one of the front windows.
The shattering glass tore at the quiet forest, thunderous and final; silence rushed in as the stunned birds fell mute, and then the noises of the forest returned; within a moment it was as if nothing had occurred.
Alexa stood, hands on her hips, looking quite pleased at the gaping window. “Lock pick,” she smiled, then frowned. “However, I’m sorry to report that I do not climb through dangerous-looking broken windows.”
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ReplyDeletei like how you use things like simile and metaphor and humor. it makes the reading kind of sweeter and fattier, tastier, which i think is a metaphor. i have a problem with these things. i look at what i've written, and there's no simile or metaphor at all! i am simile-dumb.
ReplyDeletei deleted the first version of this because i over-focused on simile, and should have mentioned metaphor another time. it was nothing insulting or vicious.