March 5, 2013
I have a novel on the go, and magazine features.
Josh swung the hard toes of his little Kicker boots into Karen’s thighs as she pushed him round the aisles in the wayward trolley. Something wrong with the non-conformist near left wheel. It wanted to veer off and make a break for it. She sympathised. Ahead, beyond Josh’s sticky face, the check-out loomed. Always the most traumatic part of the supermarket ordeal. He began to twist and grimace in his seat as he sensed the buzzing colours of the sweet display, humming in harmony with the fluorescent shop lighting like the evil tune of the Pied Piper’s flute. And then his ascending scream like the howl of an air-raid siren. Other shoppers: tense shoulders, sharp looks, gritted teeth, rolling eyes. Sweat at the nape of her neck. After, in the carpark, having strapped him safely into the Golf and closed his rear passenger door, she smashed the trolley, once, twice, hard, into the shiny red paintwork, feeling the stress ebb away as she watched the panel crumple with each satisfying crunch.
Hi I'm Dee. I'm missing the productivity of group writing since doing Nanowrimo. Need some group scribbling to help me get my writing mojo back full-force. Love the idea of hunkering down in a central location with other writers for a scribble-fest.