WIP Meme
Post a sentence (or two) from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached. Meme from araine. Perhaps as expected, very few of these are actually one sentence.
--
“How did you two deal with going off to college?” Nita asked.
Tom and Carl shared a look that was one part nostalgia and one part “I told you this question was going to come up and that when it did, I didn’t want to be the one to answer it.”
--
“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You,” he pointed a finger at her, “want me,” he poked a finger into his own chest, “to help you learn how to act like a man. You want me to give you lessons in being a man, and then you want me to lend you a few sets of clothes and keep the secret that this mysterious man who’s just become engaged to your best friend is, in fact, you--dressed as a man, of course.”
Gil nodded. “Yeah. That pretty much explains it.” She paused for a second, then added, “And the sooner the better. We’d like to announce our engagement next week.”
--
Much has been said on the subject of universal truths, to the extent that a modern author, upon attempting to annex another aphorism to this collection, must be circumspect to say the least; but to the compendium of factual evidence thus sanctioned, I find it profitable to append one truth more: that is, that a man who does not know what it is like to be laughed at, cannot possibly have a wife, or cannot have had one for long.
--
For a moment, it’s all that Carl can do to look at Tom, wide-eyed and wondering which Power to thank. For safety’s sake, he decides to thank all of them. “You’re sure?” he asks breathlessly, in a voice so faint he can barely hear it.
“Carl,” Tom says, and there’s something new in his voice: impatience, and need. “Do you really think I’d have bothered with asking if I wasn’t?” He reaches up a hand to Carl’s face and traces the curve of his jaw with tentative fingers, his eyes never leaving Carl’s, not for a second.
--
It’s twilight when I open my eyes and find myself in the cemetery.
--
Everyone knew the witch’s house by its roses.
--
“Beautiful,” she heard him say, barely above a whisper. “Don’t you think?”
“Dangerous,” she returned.
“The fire warms as well as burns, you know.”
“It’s all a function of how close one gets,” she replied. “The closer you are, the greater the danger.”
“But the greater the warmth.”
“I don’t think I’m cold enough yet that I’d be willing to endure the pain of the burn for those few moments’ heat.”
Suddenly, he was looking right at her, his eyes cool and piercing. “Are you sure?”
--
Gah, going back through and looking for these quotes makes me really want to write the stories they belong to! Aaaaand now I have to stop procrastinating and actually get some work done. Less fun, but more productive than the alternative!
--
“How did you two deal with going off to college?” Nita asked.
Tom and Carl shared a look that was one part nostalgia and one part “I told you this question was going to come up and that when it did, I didn’t want to be the one to answer it.”
--
“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You,” he pointed a finger at her, “want me,” he poked a finger into his own chest, “to help you learn how to act like a man. You want me to give you lessons in being a man, and then you want me to lend you a few sets of clothes and keep the secret that this mysterious man who’s just become engaged to your best friend is, in fact, you--dressed as a man, of course.”
Gil nodded. “Yeah. That pretty much explains it.” She paused for a second, then added, “And the sooner the better. We’d like to announce our engagement next week.”
--
Much has been said on the subject of universal truths, to the extent that a modern author, upon attempting to annex another aphorism to this collection, must be circumspect to say the least; but to the compendium of factual evidence thus sanctioned, I find it profitable to append one truth more: that is, that a man who does not know what it is like to be laughed at, cannot possibly have a wife, or cannot have had one for long.
--
For a moment, it’s all that Carl can do to look at Tom, wide-eyed and wondering which Power to thank. For safety’s sake, he decides to thank all of them. “You’re sure?” he asks breathlessly, in a voice so faint he can barely hear it.
“Carl,” Tom says, and there’s something new in his voice: impatience, and need. “Do you really think I’d have bothered with asking if I wasn’t?” He reaches up a hand to Carl’s face and traces the curve of his jaw with tentative fingers, his eyes never leaving Carl’s, not for a second.
--
It’s twilight when I open my eyes and find myself in the cemetery.
--
Everyone knew the witch’s house by its roses.
--
“Beautiful,” she heard him say, barely above a whisper. “Don’t you think?”
“Dangerous,” she returned.
“The fire warms as well as burns, you know.”
“It’s all a function of how close one gets,” she replied. “The closer you are, the greater the danger.”
“But the greater the warmth.”
“I don’t think I’m cold enough yet that I’d be willing to endure the pain of the burn for those few moments’ heat.”
Suddenly, he was looking right at her, his eyes cool and piercing. “Are you sure?”
--
Gah, going back through and looking for these quotes makes me really want to write the stories they belong to! Aaaaand now I have to stop procrastinating and actually get some work done. Less fun, but more productive than the alternative!