#scif excerpt

[inkovert]

Some Call It Fate - Excerpt 1/?

WIP INTRO

I picked at my clothes, adjusting its fit in the mirror. Despite just taking a quick shower, I lifted my arms and took a whiff, checking for any signs of post-workout sweat. Kicking my running shoes into the closet, I scooped up my satchel bag, cursing as I smothered a yawn. 

Restless and deflated from last night, I woke up earlier than usual and snuck out for a run. I knew if Jeremy found out he’d be furious, so I’d been strategic about not raising any suspicion. 

Everything was fine. It was all behind me. 

My bare walls glared back at me accusingly. I squirmed in my sneakers. 

In a fit of rage, I’d torn down all my sketches, push pins holding up frayed paper edges serving as the only remnants of what had once been. Taking in the extent of the destruction, something pulled in my chest. 

A knock sounded at the door. My heart rate surged.

“Yo, you seen my shin guards? I practiced out back after dinner and I forgot where I left them.” 

Panicking, I glanced around. Forget getting on my case about running, if Jeremy saw my walls he'd raise hell. 

The doorknob started to turn and without thinking I blurted out, “Jer, what the fuck, I’m naked!” 

The door promptly shut. “Does that mean your ears ain’t working?” 

“I don’t know where your guards are! I keep telling you to stop throwing your shit around after practicing.” 

“Damn,” he said. “No need to get testy.” 

Once his footsteps receded, I exhaled. Checking my hair once more in the mirror, I yanked open my bedroom door.

“Fuck!” I shrieked, jumping back. 

Jeremy stood on the other side, fist poised to knock. His lips parted, then his eyes slid away from my face, his expression morphing into utter horror. 

He shoved me aside. “What the fuck happened in here? Was there a fire or something?” 

I spun around. “No, I—“

“What happened to all your drawings?” He swung around to face me, eyes bulging. “Are you moving out? Did we get robbed? The feds after you?”

Closing the gap between us, I clamped my hands on his shoulders. “Jer, calm down. Nothing is happening. Everything’s fine.” 

His brows furrowed, and he jerked a thumb behind him. “Whatchu mean ‘everything's fine’? This looks like a cry for help.” 

“I’m just…redecorating,” I threw out frivolously. 

He squinted, clearly not buying it. Casting a critical look around like a detective sniffing for evidence, he paused, then glared at me. “You went running.”

The accusation startled me but I kept my cool. “What? No I didn’t.”

He took three long strides over to my desk chair and brandished my silk headband. 

I resisted the urge to slap my forehead. How could I have been so careless?

I shrugged him off. “Okay, so what? I went on a little run. Exercise is good for you, you know.” 

“No,” he said with a vigorous head shake. “Not the way you do it.” 

“Jer, seriously I’m —“

“Don’t downplay this shit, Cami,” he harshly cut me off. “You promised. You told me it wouldn’t happen again.” 

Tears threatened to well up behind my eyes. “I—“ My mouth went dry. “I won’t push myself that far again. It was a one time thing.”

Dropping the headband, he crossed his arms. “How many times do you have to go through the trauma of thinking your sister has gone missing only to find her passed out on the side of the road for you not to be scared shitless at the thought of her ever running again?”

 Clenching my jaw, I deflected the pleading, accusatory look in his hazel eyes. 

He threw up his hands. “Look, I can’t tell you how to grieve. But putting yourself in danger is out of the question.” I stubbornly wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye. He sighed. “I get it, man. I know you two had your thing with music and all that. I lost him, too.” 

Looking up at the ceiling, I blinked away tears. “I talked about him in the past tense yesterday. Without even realizing. Like that shit was fucking normal." A crease formed between my brows. "When did that happen?” I asked quietly into an open void. 

Kicking at the carpet, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “It’ll be eight next week.” Perplexed, I waited for him to elaborate. “The number of games he’s missed. I can’t stop counting. I always look up into the bleachers, hoping by some miracle he’ll be there.”

I choked back a sob. “I hate this. This…this pain. This ache. “ My fingers curled into claws close to my chest. “It’s embedded in me, in my bones, and I feel like it’s never gonna go away.” 

Without hesitating, Jeremy swept me into an embrace. 

“Do you wanna talk about the walls?” he asked, voice soft.

I shook my head. “No.” 

[bondvagabond]

Another #excerpt from my #scif #script #TabulaRasa... #writing #selfisolation #afrofuturism #philosophy #revolution #failbetter #scriptwritting #filmmaking #vagabond (at New Rochelle, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-TChO9A8OB/?igshid=1avu6ba8h3wx9

[go-redgirl]

House Democrat Jeff Van Drew Signals He’s Not Voting for Pelosi’s Impeachment Bill

Rep. Jeff Van Drew (D-NJ) said Tuesday that he will likely vote against a resolution by House Democrats to formalize their secret impeachment inquiry against President Donald Trump, prompting more uncertainly around whether Thursday’s expected vote will go on as planned.

Asked by NBC News reporter Alex Moe if he supports the measure, Van Drew replied: “I would imagine that I’m not voting for it.” Van Drew, whose district President Trump won in 2016, is among roughly a dozen House Democrats who oppose the impeachment inquiry. “I have long maintained the position that the impeachment or potential impeachment would not be good for Democrats or Republicans,” the lawmaker told Fox News in September.

Pelosi’s decision to formalize the impeachment inquiry followed weeks of pressure on House Intelligence Committee Chairman Adam Schiff (D-CA) from Republicans to bring transparency to the closed proceedings. Republicans have accused Schiff and his Democrat colleagues of selectively leaking excerpts of witnesses’ testimony conducted inside Capitol Hill’s SCIF room, known as a sensitive compartmented information facility. 

On Wednesday, nearly 30 House Republicans attempted to storm the chamber as Laura Cooper, a top Department of Defense official, was scheduled to testify.

Last week, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) and Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Lindsey Graham (R-SC) introduced a resolution condemning the Democrats’ secret impeachment and count 50 Republicans as cosponsors of the measure.

The UPI contributed to this report.

READ MORE STORIES ABOUT:

Politics House Democrats impeachment Jeff Van Drew Nancy Pelosi

___________________________________________________________

OPINION:  Jeff Van Drew must be a good Christian and don’t want to go to ‘hell’ for Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer.

Before its all over with all born again Christians in Congress will not vote for Nancy Pelosi  ‘impeachment’ Bill. Because they really understand whats going on in America.  

It’s ‘evil’ vs. ‘good’.  The Devil is on full display in this Country and you need to know that its bigger than Congress.

[captainmaiel]

From the Trailokya Trilogy Companion: Something Starting with a "C"

Read it here: http://authorkwilliams.com/2018/07/from-the-trailokya-trilogy-companion-something-starting-with-a-c/

[investmart007]

WASHINGTON  | Trump lashes out at 'Wacky Omarosa' over book, tapes

New Post has been published on https://is.gd/BFbz1g

WASHINGTON  | Trump lashes out at 'Wacky Omarosa' over book, tapes

WASHINGTON  — President Donald Trump lashed out at Omarosa Manigault Newman Monday, saying the former White House adviser — who is promoting a tell-all book and airing secret audio recordings —”got fired for the last time.”

On Twitter, Trump labels Manigault Newman “wacky” and says Kelly called her a “loser & nothing but problems.” He adds: “I told him to try working it out, if possible, because she only said GREAT things about me – until she got fired!”

Trump’s pushback comes after Manigault Newman released another audio recording Monday. Aired on NBC’s “Today” show, it is purportedly an excerpt of a phone conversation between Trump and Manigault Newman after she was fired from the White House. It appears to show Trump expressing surprise, saying “nobody even told me about it.”

On Sunday, Manigault Newman told NBC’s “Meet the Press” that she surreptitiously recorded a number of conversations in the White House for her own protection. The show aired portions of a recording of her firing by chief of staff John Kelly in the high-security Situation Room.

Critics have denounced the recordings as a serious breach of ethics and security. The voice on the recording released Monday appears to be Trump’s. The White House has not denied it, but The Associated Press has not independently verified it’s Trump. The AP has independently listened to the recording with Kelly.

Trump acknowledged Monday that the occupant of the Oval Office should perhaps not engage in a public war of words with an ex-employee, saying he knows “it’s “not presidential” to take on “a lowlife like Omarosa.” But he added: “this is a modern day form of communication and I know the Fake News Media will be working overtime to make even Wacky Omarosa look legitimate as possible.

Sorry!” While the latest recording appears to show Trump was unaware of her firing, Manigault Newman said on “Today” that Trump may have instructed Kelly to do it. She offered no evidence.

White House spokesman Hogan Gidley said Monday: “I’m not going to get into the tick-tock of who knew what when, but the president makes the decisions.”

Manigault Newman, whose book is out this week, suggested there was more to come: “There’s a lot of very corrupt things happening in the White House and I am going to blow the whistle on a lot of them.”

Trump’s attorney, Rudy Giuliani, said on “Fox and Friends” Monday that Manigault Newman may have broken the law by recording private conversations at the White House.

“She’s certainly violating national security regulations, which I think have the force of law,” Giiuliani said.

In the recording with Kelly, which Manigault Newman quotes extensively in her new book, “Unhinged,” Kelly can be heard saying that he wants to talk with Manigault Newman about leaving the White House.

“It’s come to my attention over the last few months that there’s been some pretty, in my opinion, significant integrity issues related to you,” Kelly is heard saying, citing her use of government vehicles and “money issues and other things” that he compares to offenses that could lead to a court martial in the military.

“If we make this a friendly departure … you can look at your time here in the White House as a year of service to the nation and then you can go on without any type of difficulty in the future relative to your reputation,” he tells Manigault Newman, adding: “There are some serious legal issues that have been violated and you’re open to some legal action that we hope, we think, we can control.”

Manigault Newman said she viewed the conversation as a “threat” and defended her decision to covertly record it and other White House conversations.

“If I didn’t have these recordings, no one in America would believe me,” she said.

The response from the White House was stinging. “The very idea a staff member would sneak a recording device into the White House Situation Room, shows a blatant disregard for our national security – and then to brag about it on national television further proves the lack of character and integrity of this disgruntled former White House employee,” press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders said in a statement.

The Situation Room is a Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, or SCIF, where the nation’s most consequential foreign policy decisions are made, and staff are not permitted to bring in cellphones or other recording devices.

“I’ve never heard of a more serious breach of protocol,” said Ned Price, who served as spokesman of the National Security Council in the Obama administration. “Not only is it not typical, something like this is unprecedented.”

Price said there is no one checking staffers for devices at the door, but there is a sign outside the room making clear that electronic devices are prohibited.

“The Situation Room is the inner-most sanctum of a secure campus,” he said, describing the breach as part of a culture of disregarding security protocols in the Trump White House. He also questioned why Kelly would ever choose to have such a meeting there.

In the book, being released Tuesday, Manigault Newman paints a damning picture of Trump, including claiming without evidence that tapes exist of him using the N-word as he filmed his “The Apprentice” reality series, on which she co-starred.

Manigault Newman wrote in the book that she had not personally heard the recording. But she told Chuck Todd on Sunday that she later was able to hear a recording of Trump during a trip to Los Angeles.

“I heard his voice as clear as you and I are sitting here,” she said on the show.

The White House had previously tried to discredit the book, with Sanders calling it “riddled with lies and false accusations.”

Katrina Pierson, an adviser to Trump’s re-election campaign who served as a spokeswoman for his 2016 campaign, said she had never heard Trump use the kind of derogatory language Manigault Newman describes. She said in a statement that she feels “pity for Omarosa as she embarrasses herself by creating salacious lies and distortions just to try to be relevant and enrich herself by selling books at the expense of the truth. ‘Unhinged,’ indeed.”

White House counselor Kellyanne Conway told ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday that “the first time I ever heard Omarosa suggest those awful things about this president are in this book.”

Manigault Newman had been a staunch defender of the president for years, including pushing back, as the highest-profile African-American in the White House, on accusations that he was racist. She now says she was “used” by Trump, calling him a “con” who “has been masquerading as someone who is actually open to engaging with diverse communities” and is “truly a racist.”

“I was complicit with this White House deceiving this nation,” she said. “I had a blind spot where it came to Donald Trump.”

By JILL COLVIN and CATHERINE LUCEY , Associated Press

[inkovert]

I want to write something fun and silly that doesn't really matter and that I don't care about carefully crafting with logical plot or well-thought out character arcs or perfectly worded sentences.

I want to write like nobody's watching

[inkovert]

Line 2/?

Sharing a line I just wrote that hits

I almost caught myself saying, How can I be a stranger to someone who makes me feel so understood?

[inkovert]

I love writing Cami/Spencer scenes/dialogue a little too much. I can't stop re-reading this scene. I need to so I can write the next one

I needed a distraction. It occurred to me that Spencer was probably lingering around here somewhere, this seemed to be his usual hiding place. Rising from my seat, I went to search through the aisles. 

I found him standing in the historical fiction section, poring over a thick book. 

I approached slowly, hands raised. “I come in peace.” 

His eyes flicked up to me, then back down to the page. “What do you want?” Tone flat and disinterested as always.

“Hello to you, too. I’m doing fantastic, thank you for asking.” 

He looked up briefly once again. “What do you want?” 

Shrugging, I shoved my hands into my front pockets. “Nothing. I was just bored, I needed a distraction and I knew you’d be here.” 

He squinted at me. “Not a single part of that sentence followed a logical progression of thought.” 

I scoffed. “Would it kill you to be a decent human being for like, I don’t know, five minutes?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question.” 

Turning away, I kicked at the base of the bookshelf in frustration. Feeling my mind drifting back to my dilemma, I found myself telling him the truth. “I’m hiding, if you must know. Someone asked me a question I don’t have an answer for and I can’t face them until I do.” 

He shut his book and slid it back onto the shelf. ”I love all this extraneous information I didn’t ask for.”  

I rolled my eyes. “You’re right. My breath is wasted on you.” 

“You promise?” 

I scowled. 

Fingers hovering over book spines, he inspected each one and then slid out a thin book with a red cover.

“I swear you always have a different book in your hand,” I observed. “Why do you love reading so much?” 

His gaze snapped over to me sharply. “That’s a pretty stupid question. Especially coming from you.”

I immediately went on the defensive. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Why was every word that left my mouth immediately met with hostility?  

Thumbing through the book in his hand, he said, “You draw, right?” I was surprised he remembered that. He’d only ever seen me draw that one time. "Why?” 

I was caught off guard by him throwing the question back at me. I thought for a second. “I enjoy creating, dreaming up things. Then taking an idea from my imagination and making it tangible. ” 

“That was a cute little rehearsed response.” His blue eyes pinned me to the spot. “Now what’s the actual reason?” 

I clenched my jaw at his demanding tone. Digging deeper, I pulled out a more truthful, vulnerable reply. “Drawing helps me escape. To somewhere where I feel safe and in control. Everything is my own making and mine alone. It helps me block out or deal with all the BS and unfairness around me.” 

His gaze lingered on me, then slowly fell away, focusing on nothing in particular. “Out here, I’m just average, a kid,” he spoke the word kid with such disdain,”whose life is meaningless, inconsequential.” Closing the book in his hand, he returned it to the shelf, the spine still at his fingertips. “In here, life means something. It has purpose. In here,” he said quietly, almost in a daze, “I can be extraordinary.” 

Lips parted, I watched him closely, baffled and in awe. For a moment, he seemed to forget I was even standing there, and I swear, but couldn’t be sure, that in that small frame of time, I caught the tiniest sliver of vulnerability within him. But once he caught me staring, his face hardened, hand dropping to his side.

“Good luck playing hide and seek.” He turned and left.

[inkovert]

Some Call It Fate | powerless, excerpt from ch 38

WC: 468

⁂

I undid my seatbelt, the metal knocking against the car door. My hand itched for the door handle, but it didn't feel right leaving him like this.

After allowing another moment of silence to drag on, I braced myself, daring to speak up. "That was him, wasn't it?"

He sat eerily still, eyes unfocused but trained somewhere past the windshield. Despite his dazed look, his clenched jaw and the death grip he had on the steering wheel gave him away. After a painstakingly long moment, he gave the most subtle nod that would've easily gone unnoticed had I not been watching him so closely.

His expression was unreadable. His breaths quick, but controlled. I had no idea what was going through his mind, and I was even more clueless on what to say next.

"I can't believe he just showed up to school like that," I muttered. He remained still, his stare unwavering. My heart cinched. "Are you..." I started, hesitating as I second guessed myself, "Are you gonna be okay?"

My question went unanswered for several beats, for so long that I almost thought he'd never speak again.

Then, he slowly dropped his head back against the headrest, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a strained swallow, ever so quietly murmuring, "Who knows."

The fragility in his voice broke me. I wanted to dive across the space between us and throw my arms around him. I wanted to place a hand on top of his and squeeze it so hard that he could feel nothing but my presence, and know that his pain was my pain, that I would face it all with him, both of us, together. I wanted to say so much and nothing at all. To let him know that I'd sit there in silence with him forever until he was ready to speak, whether that be minutes, hours, days, weeks from now.

But I was powerless. I couldn't comfort him. I didn't know how. And I knew even if I tried he wouldn't let me.

So despite everything within me screaming against it, I grabbed my bag, placed my hand on the handle and popped the door open.

Just before I exited, Noah's words echoed in my mind.

"You may not trust me or think of me as a friend anymore, and that's fine. But just so you know, I'm never going to stop trying to be there for you. So you can try all you want to stay mad at me or hate me or whatever. But I'm never going to let you push me away."

My spiel elicited very little reaction, but I knew he'd heard me and I'd gotten my point across.

I stepped out of the car, not yet hopeful, but warmed by a new fire of determination.

taglist: @thelaughingstag @pandawriterstuff @goldenzingy46

[inkovert]

WIP: Some Call It Fate

Excerpt from: Chapter 8

Context: After begrudgingly asking Spencer to give her a ride home, Cami has an unexpected run-in at the house with her mother. She convinces Spencer to help her flee to the CoffeeHouse, where she works, to hide out.

A chime of the bell led me to reflexively glance at the door. My forehead creased when I saw Spencer standing at the entrance, his gaze passing over the people in the room. Spotting me, he approached my table.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I growled. Seriously, what did it take to get rid of this guy?

“Mostly covering my ass.” The chair across from me scraped against the floor as he pulled it back and sat down. “You see, ‘I’ll figure something out’ isn’t exactly a reassuring response. And in the event that something were to happen to you, I’m technically the last person to see you alive. You see how that could be a bit of a problem for me.”

“Of course. I’d hate to be a liability issue,” I remarked, sitting back in my seat.

He studied my face. "Not that it’s any of my business,” he started, “but what happened back there?”

My chest grew tight and I thoughtfully regarded the table. “You’re right. It is none of your business. I’m not even sure why you’re here.”

To my surprise, he released a dry laugh. “You’re such a piece of work,” he muttered, prompting me to glare at him. "I’ve spent the last half hour being your chauffeur and you can’t even express the tiniest bit of gratitude.”

“I said thank you like five times.”

“With a complete lack of sincerity.”

I narrowed my eyes, sliding to the edge of my seat. “Really? You’re going to lecture me about sincerity? The only thing you’ve managed to be sincere about is how much you’d rather shoot yourself in the foot than spend another minute with me.”

He turned his cheek to me and I saw his jaw tense. “Look, I didn’t come in here to fight with you.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t come in here because you give a damn about me either,” I retaliated.

His piercing blue eyes pinned me to my seat. “I’m not the one you’re mad at right now.“

I pursed my lips and looked away, shielding myself from his pressing stare. “Maybe so, but you’re about the last person I’d choose to confide in right now. So, thanks, but I think I’ll save this one for my diary.”

Shaking his head, he scoffed and pushed away from the table. The space between us fell quiet.

Though it may seem like my anger was a little misplaced at the moment, it wasn’t entirely so. What upset me the most about Spencer wasn’t his quick-witted remarks or his complete lack of remorse for his actions. It was the fact that he expected me to overlook his rude behavior and treat him with kindness and courtesy when he’d done next to nothing to deserve it.

What he didn’t realize was that things like trust and forgiveness didn’t come naturally to me. The way I saw it, like most things in life, they had to be earned.

I had my mother to thank for that lesson.

She taught me years ago that trust equaled power. And putting blind faith into someone, including your own flesh and blood, was the quickest way to end up broken and disappointed. I vowed never to make that same mistake again.

My chest swelled as I inhaled a shaky breath, mindlessly playing with the ring on my middle finger. It was a thin band in the shape of a golden crown, molded and detailed with fine intricacies.

Princess, my father’s deep, affectionate voice resonated within the depths of my mind. As memories of him began to resurface, I felt a wave of nostalgia pour over me like a rush of bitter cold water. I tensed in my seat. If only he could see me now, who I’d become over the years. He would be disappointed. I was sure of it. Consumed by anger and hatred, I’d let my former self be stripped of her innocence, her openness and her faith in people. And I hadn’t even tried to fight it.

My father wasn’t like that. He never let his emotions impair his judgement. He was kind and he kept his composure, even when times were tough. And he could see the good in people, even when they had mistreated him.

You’ve got to be patient with people, Princess, he would say. They have the capacity to surprise you.

"It was my mom,” I finally spoke up, still distracted by my ring. From the periphery of my vision, I saw Spencer’s head lift.

He took a hesitant pause, watching me carefully. “So I gathered,” he replied, propping his elbows on the table. “But most people I know don’t run from their parents. Not unless they’re angry.” His stare lingered on me. “Or afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of her.” An edge marked my voice. “Her and I, we just don’t…“ I trailed off, leaving the end of my sentence suspended in the air. There were no words to begin to explain my relationship with my mother. “Have you ever tried to force yourself to forget something? Like an embarrassing moment, or a nightmare. And it feels like the more you try to escape it, the faster it keeps catching up to you? Kind of like fighting your way out of quicksand.” I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat. “Well, she’s my quicksand. A constant reminder that no matter how hard I try to fight it, I can never escape.”

A palpable silence ensued following my confession. Upon registering what I’d said, the raw truth and emotion in my words, I glanced up at Spencer. He was no longer wearing his usual expression of indifference; there was something else there, hidden in his face, in his eyes. My forehead twitched as I struggled to discern it, and I distantly wondered how he’d become so skilled at concealing the tiniest shift in his emotions.

Taglist: @goldenzingy46 @pandawriterstuff

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[inkovert]

I'm still not 100% but I'm feeling a little better this week. My stress has gone from like....89% to like....75%.

[inkovert]

A New Beginning 

WIP: Some Call It Fate

Just some minor context for this scene: Cami and Eli are on their first date. Cami had a lot of reservations about going out with Eli for a number of reasons, so it took a long time for her to say yes. He’s a soccer player so he took her to the field where he first learned to play and taught her some basic moves. Right before this scene happens Eli is chasing her on the field to get her back for teasing him about something and yeah she trips and falls. Ok I’m going to be quiet now. 

“Fuck.” A searing pain shot through my hand. 

Eli caught up to me in seconds. “Shit, Cami, are you okay?” His face etched with concern, he knelt down beside me

I winced. Dark red fluid pooled in the palm of my hand, leaking from a small scrape that had chipped away at my skin. “I think I cut it on sharp rock or something.” Unknowingly, we’d drifted towards the woodsier edge of the field. 

“Fuck, that looks like it stings. You’re not hurt anywhere else are you?” His face drew closer to mine, his grey eyes clouded and probing me for damages. I swallowed and drew back when our foreheads grazed each other, shaking my head in response. “I’ve got some bandages in my car.  I can carry you back to the lot.” 

I gave him a look. “It’s just a scrape, Eli, I didn’t lose a limb.” 

“Who would pass up a free opportunity to be carried around?” 

Shaking my head at him, I said, “I can walk.” 

Back at Eli’s car, he whipped out a first aid kid from his glove compartment and balanced it on top of the console vault. As he started unpacking it, he caught me staring at him questioningly. 

“I used to be a boy scout.” He gestured to the kit. “It’s one of the ten basic essentials.” 

Amused, I pressed my lips together, my gaze coasting to the side. 

“What? What was that look?” 

“Nothing.” His stare lingered on me. “It’s just…of course you were a boy scout. As if you couldn’t get anymore perfect.” I froze after I registered what I’d said. 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’m perfect?” 

“No,” I scoffed. The glee faded from his expression. “I mean…no, no one’s perfect.” You’re just too good to be true. 

His eyes never leaving my face, he gripped a bottle of antibiotics and gestured for my hand.

“I can do it.” 

“And so can I,” he said. “Let me help you.” 

With a quick breath to brace myself, I slowly gave up my hand. He cradled it in his large, slightly calloused palm. It took every fiber of my being not to flinch at his touch, owing both to the stinging pain of my wound and the tenderness with which he attended to it. 

He pressed on a bandage. “There.” 

A charged silence seized the air between us. My heart was practically bounding in my chest. I wasn’t sure what to say, what needed to be said, or where the next moments would take us. 

“You know,” Eli started, “I know it took a lot for you to come out here today. I mean I’ve never lost anyone close to me before, let alone a parent. But it changes you. I mean it has to. You probably look at everything so differently. Stuff that used to matter no longer holds as much importance. Like going on a silly date.” He cast a furtive look my way, examining me for a reaction. When I didn’t offer one, he shifted slightly in his seat. “I get that you still need time. And I’m really not trying to rush this. Or you. So, just…take all the time you need.” 

An amalgam of emotions poured over me, some of them indecipherable, some I knew all too well. One of them resounded amongst the rest, greeting me like a friend I hadn’t even known I’d fallen out of touch with.

Hope. 

Unsure what to say, I settled for, “Thank you, that…means a lot.”

Cocking his head over to me, he sent me an endearing smile. “Believe it or not, my mom also had her reservations about my dad before they got married. Her last boyfriend had cheated on her. She never talks about it much, but from what I gathered it was a pretty bad situation. It was hard for her to really be open and trust my dad before they got together.

“But now they're happily married, going 24 years strong. Don't get me wrong they definitely have their moments, but I don't think they'd have it any other way." 

I lifted a skeptical brow. "You're not about to propose to me, are you?" 

He chuckled. "I wouldn't do that on the first date. That's more of a second or third date kinda thing."

Laughter overtook me before I even became aware of the action. 

“I’m just saying, the best relationships take time. And we’ve got all the time in the world.” He stared fixedly at me, so intensely that I dipped my head away nervously. 

“I can start driving you home now if you want.” He sat up in his seat and dug his key into the ignition. 

“Wait.” 

He glanced over at me. 

“I think…you owe me a cup of hot chocolate for making me nearly freeze to death out there.” 

His smile grew wide. “I know just where to go.” 

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[inkovert]

→Some Call It Fate, Chapter 1 (excerpt) 

It was a brisk September morning, the sun faithfully emerging from the horizon, pouring through the neighborhood, and illuminating everything in its wake.

My cheeks tingled with numbness, and I panted as I fought to keep up my pace. Power by Kanye West blared in my ears at full volume and I could feel my heart hammering against my chest while my calves begged me to call it quits. I welcomed the pain; it served its purpose, giving me something to focus on other than my thoughts. 

Anger. Guilt. Betrayal. Whispers and harsh words exchanged behind closed doors. Like the sweat cooling on my forehead, I felt it all fade from existence. For the moment, I was in my domain, and nature was my sanctuary. Right now, nothing mattered. 

And yet, I knew the second I slowed down, it would all catch up to me. I would feel everything: the bricks in my legs, the emptiness in my chest, the immovable weight on my shoulders. Like a train headed for a disaster, I would come crashing back into reality, and all my inner demons would be waiting at the frontline to greet me. 

What I needed right now was not to feel. I didn't want to think or remember. So I picked up the speed, and kept running. 

A half hour later, I approached the corner of Willow Lane. The street was lined with small, suburban houses, each driveway occupied with the latest car models, sunlight glinting off their metallic surfaces. The bushes were trimmed, the lawns clean-cut, not a weed in sight, or a single blade out of place. It amused me sometimes, how much people concerned themselves with keeping up appearances. Hell could be breaking loose on the other side of the door but as long as the bushes were trimmed any unsuspecting stranger assumed all was well. I wondered if anyone had predicted the turmoil that had torn through my own home years ago.

[inkovert]

Ch 37 Excerpt

So I'm going to start sharing excerpts when I finish writing a new chapter of SCIF without giving too much away. There may be "skips" in certain scenes to avoid spoilers.

Enjoy this tense scene in which Cami attempts to apologize for [redacted]!

WC: 397

⁂

"For someone who made a whole scene about needing to talk, you're awfully silent."

I flinched. My gaze fell away to my hands.

“I…I’m not sure where to start." I fiddled with my ring. "I can't even begin to express to you how sorry I am. What I did...I shouldn't have ever..." I trailed off, taking slow breaths to subdue my accelerating heart rate. "You were finally beginning to trust me and I ruined that. Over some stupid mistake. I don't even know why I...If I could take it back I would. In a heart beat. I swear the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. Or disappoint you." I paused to look up at him, but his gaze was pinned to an arbitrary spot on the floor beside me. "I don't know what else to really say. But if you'll give me another chance, I swear I will do anything to make it up to you. I hate how things are between us. I hate this...distance. And I know I'm the reason that it's there, but I want to fix that. To go back to how things were."

My apology lingered in the space between us. I swallowed nervously, waiting with bated breath for him to speak.

"You done?"

My forehead wrinkled. I met his face. The bored look he wore caused my temper to flare.

I clenched my fists. "No. No, I'm not done. Not until I find a way for you to forgive me."

"Alright," he said, tone flat. "I forgive you."

I narrowed my eyes. "You don't mean that. You won't even look at me." His jaw tightened, but he didn't move to prove me wrong. I scoffed. "So what, you're just gonna stay mad at me forever?"

"I'm not mad at you."

"Bullshit."

"I'm not mad at you," he repeated, but the bitter cord had slipped out of his voice now, replaced by something light and fragile. "I'm just tired." I searched his face, perplexed, but it gave nothing away. His eyes grew darker, and suddenly, despite the fact that he was standing right before me, he felt farther away than ever.

...

[redacted]

...

In that moment, I realized that he was a lot more fragile than he seemed. I'd tried to cling to him, hold him close. And without thinking, I'd let him slip from my fingers, and he shattered beneath me like glass. In my attempts to gather the shards that remained, he'd cut me, merciless and deep.

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[inkovert]

Pretty much finished rewriting/editing Ch 41 of SCIF and going to upload it soon. I am thoroughly satisfied with it. There's a specific emotional note that's hit at one point that I find so gut-wrenchingly pleasing every time I read it. I'll be sharing an excerpt of that moment later today ~ And hopefully will follow up with a fluffier excerpt from the chapter in a few days to balance things out lol.

One thing I found especially helpful to pumping out this chapter in a week was forcing myself to write a super super rough draft. I am so proud of myself for being able to fully shut off my perfectionist/editing brain for this writing session because it made it so much easier and faster to rewrite this chapter after I had all the words/ideas on paper. And I know that logically makes sense. But I usually find myself stuck and unable to write the rest of a chapter if I'm not satisfied with the first half of it, and I quickly end up editing myself into a corner and taking longer to finish. I get caught up on word choices, trying to avoid repetitive words etc etc. It's quite an annoying habit. So I'm hoping I can continue to keep that part of my brain at bay :)

I'm also hoping I can keep this momentum as I'll no longer be on vacation next week. Fingers crossed.

[inkovert]

So after an interesting conversation I had today I’ve decided that I’m going to challenge myself to post and share more about my story. I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but I very rarely post my writing because it just makes me anxious and I worry about coming off as attention-seeking, how my work will be received etc etc. But I’ve decided to block all that self-conscious BS out and just start shouting into the void! I want to get better about posting my writing and about my writing process, whether anyone is listening or not. 

I just posted a reintroduction of my wip SCIF and I hope to post character intros in the coming days, as well as some excerpts here and there as well. I’ve also been working quite slowly on a new wip idea (my first in like 10 years) so I hope to also have something to say about that soon - I just haven’t come up with a title for it or really...anything...for it. So we shall see!