More editing happened this week! Not much for drafting up any new writing, but I'm really happy with the flow of new ideas right. I have no complaints about how my thoughts are percolating into scenes in my head; getting my ideas sorted out is half the fun of writing :D
As of right now, there's just a week and a half left until school starts up again. We've decided to try in-person learning for the first term's option as our school made switching to virtual at any time a very simple process, and because our kids benefit from the mental health side of being around other kids than just each other. There really isn't a "right choice" right now for back to school. Every choice sucks.
Otherwise, not a lot is going on inside my personal bubble over in this corner of the world. Slugs ate our garden because of all the rain we've been having (and because I'm not a good gardener... I really don't bother to monitor how or if things are growing or not). But I learned all the rain also created a surge in the number of garter snakes we have in the city and that – to me – is wonderful news. If you don't know, garter snakes are completely harmless to humans and most pets, the younger and smaller ones eat a lot of insect garden pests, and the older and larger ones eat rodent pests and insect garden pests. I guess I have some reading to do for making our yard more garter-snake-friendly :)
Hope you're staying safe and healthy! Flyboy, Part 1:
He waded through the mud in his consciousness. What had happened? He’d been flying... following the river... the Flight Commander had said turn back, too hot... the Ground Commander had said go in... passenger bird and right gunship had turned back but the smoke was popped and the extraction was a sitting duck... two – three? No, only two – people running... only one extra person on the bird... heavy fire... the bird started to fall...
“Just get me across the river!” she yelled. “We’re going down too fast!” he answered between mayday calls. “DO IT, FLYBOY!” she ordered. He forced the bird to limp... the river came up too fast... the far bank didn’t get close enough... something hit him in the back – the front? – and then the controls became part of his helmet... there was water and smoke in the bird when the weight lifted off him... she looked surprised when he sat up... “We gotta go. Right now,” she said. “The crew –” he turned and saw them. What was left of them. They grabbed the tags and ammo and any rations... his head hurt... where was his helmet? His face was bleeding... “Go! Now!” She pushed him out of the bird and towards the bank. He carried two packs... the water was cool... the sun was hot... the trees on the bank promised shade... he was knocked to the ground between the roots and something exploded behind him... she was pulling him along as they ran... his head hurt... He opened his eyes and saw darkness. A shape settled beside him close enough that he could hear it breathing. It stopped moving as the breeze stilled. It looked at him and motioned for him to be silent. His head hurt. A bright light flashed in both his eyes and seared his retinas into the back of his skull. “It’s a good thing you’re small, Flyboy,” she said. A wind started up again and the shape lifted him onto its shoulders. He opened his eyes and saw darkness. A shape was sitting, hunched by his feet, and peering through a slit out to something that looked too bright to exist. He moved carefully and the shape turned to look at him. “You did good,” she said. His thoughts felt swollen, the throbbing in his head worse each time he turned it to look around. She crawled up beside him – the ceiling was too close to stand – and pulled something out of the bag closest to him. “This will probably be uncomfortable,” she said. She held his head steady with one hand, holding his eyes open one at a time as she shone a miniature sun into his pupils to check his reaction times. It was more than uncomfortable. “Better than eight hours ago,” she said, and then she smiled at him. “You may just live through this,” she said. “Oh. Good,” he croaked. She chuckled. He covered his eyes with his hand, trying not to put any pressure on his head as he did. He listened to her moving quietly as she stayed sitting beside him. She pressed a soft tube into the hand that wasn’t covering his eyes. “Eat this,” she said.
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AManda FLIEDERThis was a weekly blog updating on Fridays, but life got busy so now I pop in now and then to let you know I'm still chipping away at my stories. If you look back through the archive you'll find weekly quick personal blurbs about me, as in what's going on during my life as an Author and mom, and that doles out my short stories and novellas in bite-sized parts for everyone to read for free! Check out my Short Stories section for free downloads of most of my writing, too! Archives
March 2024
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