Free Writing 1.20.16

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A little explanation first.

And a greetings.

I’m back to writing, and this time I’m going to try to keep up with my blog posts, but I make no promises. As the more I learn about the craft, the more I realize, I don’t have advice to give.

But anyway. As an exercise before I begin my writing each day (with a goal of 5k words a week I WILL be writing nearly every day) I will spend 15 minutes free writing. Writing almost stream of conscious. Though, I don’t know if any of my writing could ever be TRULY stream of conscious, as I edit it in the space of time it takes to get from my head to my fingers. But, such is life.


When she spoke, it was as though her she were removed from the situation; as though nothing that was happening affected her in the slightest. There was no emotion, no feeling, no soul in her voice. As Ja’ahrek kneeled  in front of her and peered into her face, he found it to mirror her voice. A blank expression matched her blank voice and vacant eyes stared through him sightlessly. 

Grasping her arm, she still did not move. Not to shake him off, not to meet or avoid his gaze. This was not the Ma’arina he knew. For the first time in many years- too many to count- Ja’ahrek felt fear; the good and proper kind that raised his flesh in bumps as the chill of it worked it’s way down his spine. 

“Jinelle,” his voice cracked slightly and he had to clear his throat before he could speak without wavering. “Take that thing off of her.” 

The woman with him snapped a smart salute and, letting her rifle hang loose on it’s shoulder strap, she stepped closer to the still woman and reached for the amulet that still gave off it’s even, blue glow. The snap of breaking bone and flesh echoed through the small chamber and it took a moment for Ja’ahrek to put together what had happened. Ma’arina, moving so quickly that neither soldier had time to react, had broken Jinelle’s arm before her fingers made it within a foot of the amulet. 

True to her training, however, Jinelle didn’t make a single sound of pain even as she cradled the broken arm to her chest. 

“Shit.” 

As the word came to his lips unbidden, Jinelle raised an eyebrow. Come to think of it, he’d never cursed in her presence, had he? No, of course not. Since they’d met he’d been in the position of her superior. He ignored her look and stepped closer. At his gesture she proffered her arm. Though she still made no sound of pain, he saw the wince that she tried to hide.

Scowling, he examined the limb without touching it. It appeared to be broken at the midway point between the wrist and the elbow. Though blood obscured much of the skin, he could see the end of a pale bone peering from the flesh and he had to force down bile. 


 

Well that’s my time, and I think I may have to continue this little piece tomorrow. I’m intrigued.

 

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