As 2010 segues to 2011…
If you’re reading this, you most likely know about my 2010 Thing a Week experiment—a pilgrimage to become a better writer by producing content every week. I concocted the idea as 2009 segued into 2010, and now I’m here to gladly say it was a success.
That’s right, I finished.
Thing a Week 52: The Author
The thick, steel doors slammed shut the moment Paul hit the ground. He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes to look back at where the men were just standing. The men who brought him here, against his will, and trapped him in this cage. They knew about his gift. Paul knew they knew. They just wouldn’t admit it.
Thick, white cloth lined every wall in the small cell. Whether to protect its resident from itself (as They say) or to muffle his screams, Paul wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was that he had to get out.
Thing a Week 51: Oregon Tourists
“I guess it’s a bit more dreary out here than I thought,” Molly said gloomily, looking out the windshield at the heavy rain pouring down over the beach. Heavy winds whipped the grey skies around and stretched trees in every direction.
“We can always come back another day,” Tom suggested. He was sitting in the passenger seat with his left hand entwined in Molly’s right. Behind them, their two kids sat in the backseat with their eyes glued on the treacherous ocean waves ahead. “It’ll be warmer next week; we can come then!”
Thing a Week 50: Sorry
I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, but I’m not quite sure how to tell you, so I’m just going to say it.
I once saw a girl in the rain as I waited for my bus to arrive. She was hard to describe. The first thing I noticed were her eyes, even behind her glasses; large, round pools of blue that were far too beautiful to be the eyes she was born with. Her lips were just as exquisite, but I can’t even begin to describe them, other than to just say they were shiny, red, and juicy.
Thing a Week 49: Aiden, ch. 1
The sun meekly peered through the dense clouds in the west, just barely managing to illuminate the little town of Mudon. Long, faint shadows connected the rows of wooden houses, while a young teenager took cover in the darkness as he silently crept away from his caretaker’s fields.
Thing a Week 48: My Hobby
Oh
The problem?
Solved.