Friday, November 27, 2009

The Office – Chapter Four

This is the fourth installment in a serial story that I have been writing for some time. To read Chapters One through Three, just hop on over to Serialstory99 or click the title above and it will take you right to it.

Thanks For Reading!

The Office - Chapter Four


When they reached the alley, John turned Celia to face him and said…”Celia, you mustn’t repeat any of what you have seen or heard today. My work for the Preservation Society is, well, a sideline, if you get my meaning.” He did not release her, but continued to regard her as though gauging his chances that she’d reveal him.

“You mean you actually work for them? And Stone doesn’t know it? John, you could get fired. What are you thinking?” Celia disengaged herself from his grip and walked briskly toward the exit, only then recalling her dress. She turned quickly, her face as red as a beet.

John just smiled and put his jacked around her again. “Let’s get you home.”

Celia forgot to be ashamed the minute she saw the laughter in John’s eyes. He had the most amazing hazel eyes and she’d never noticed them before. What planet have I been on?

John took the driver’s seat again; Celia didn’t complain. She just explained to him how to get to her little apartment, all the while going over in her head whether she’d put everything that could possibly embarrass her away.

At the door, Celia fumbled with the keys. She felt awkward like she was on a date and this was the kiss – no kiss moment. She was immediately greeted by a mewling cat. John reached down and picked Mr. Baby right up and began to pet him. Mr. Baby didn’t usually like strangers, but he certainly liked John.

Celia ran to her room to change. “I’ll just be a minute, John.”

Before she could get her blue dress zipped all the way up, someone started banging on the door. John opened it. A woman with tears streaming down her face stood there holding onto two small children.

Celia ran to the door when she heard Ester’s voice asking for her. “Celia, I prayed you were home. He’s drinking again. Please take the children. Please.”

“Ester, I have to go back to work. I just came home to change my ripped dress.” Celia held her hands out to the woman.

“Please Celia, you know what he will do. You are the only one I trust. Please keep my babies safe.” She gave the little ones a push and they both ran to Celia and wrapped their little arms around her. Then the woman was gone.

John reached over and zipped Celia’s dress the rest of the way up.

“John, what am I going to do? That man would hurt these children if he knew where they were. That’s why she brings them to me when he’s passed out.” Celia ran her fingers through the children’s hair and cupped their little faces with her hands.

“You’re just going to have to call in sick for the rest of the day. Do you have the time?” John was reaching for the phone.

“Yes, but I have a project due in two days for Mr. Stone.” Celia was deathly afraid of the elder Mr. Stone.

John was dialing. “You’ll get it done. I’ve never known you to miss a deadline.”

Celia was flabbergasted! How did John know about her work habits?

“Hello, this is John Tucker. Celia Brown has taken ill and won’t be able to return to work today. I’ll be taking the rest of the day myself. Thank you Olivia.” John said to the human resources clerk.

Celia didn’t know how to react. What was John doing?

John turned from the phone and looked at the children. Then he looked at Celia. The look was…protective. “Celia, whoever this man is, the one you hide the children from, he’s obviously dangerous. I can’t have you here alone in this apartment if he comes looking. I mean, look at your locks Celia! They wouldn’t stop me if I really wanted in. You need to secure this place a lot better.”

“I’m moving to the co-op on 42nd, remember. It’s nice and has lots of security.” Celia didn’t know why she felt so defensive all of a sudden.

John walked to the door and turned all the locks. Just as he did, something bashed into the door. John jumped back and got between the door and Celia. “Go get in the bedroom and lock the door.” He whispered.

Celia ran to the bedroom. She got her brother’s baseball bat and told the kids to lock the door behind her. Crying softly, they nodded their little heads. The youngest got under the blankets on the bed, eyes wide. Celia stopped and kissed them both. Then she ran out.

“I told you to get in the bedroom!” John hissed.

“I won’t leave you.” Celia brandished her baseball bat.

John smiled. Celia couldn’t categorize that smile, but she liked it – a lot.

Something bashed against the door again and the wood around the hinges began to splinter. Celia was scared.

“Call 911 Celia; do it now!” John stood unarmed before the door.

“What is the nature of your emergency?” The 911 operator asked

Celia tried to stay calm, “someone is bashing down my apartment door!”

While Celia was on the line with 911, she tossed her bat to John. And none too soon. With one final bash, the hinges gave way and the door broke in.

Celia screamed. A very angry man with a metal post had just broken down her door and now he had produced a gun.

John didn’t wait; he swung his bat and knocked the gun out of the man’s hand.

Celia screamed again at what she saw next. “John, look out!”


©2009 TSW

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Friday Flash



For the next several weeks, Im going to be writing episodes for my serial story, "The Office", that has been languishing over at serialstory99. Check out the first three episodes so you'll be up to date on the story. Don't worry, they're short. Thanks for reading!

See you on Friday Flash!

I Did it! I "Won" NaNoWriMo.






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Friday, November 6, 2009

NaNoWriMo Update

Here's a little update on my NaNoWriMo Progress for any of you who may be interested.







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Friday, October 30, 2009

What Goes Around

They sat around the fire listening to the snaps and pops as the wood was consumed.

“Someone tell a scary story,” Elizabeth suggested.

Corey shifted on the log and held his hands out in front of the group. “It sat perfectly still on that cold October morning, its bright orange body in sharp contrast to the sugar white snow that had been falling all night. And it was quiet, waiting for that singular moment when,

‘Mommy, I found one’, said little Timmy.

‘Good for you.’ said Timmy’s mom.

So they loaded up their treasure and headed home. Suddenly, the one who had been sleeping woke to trembling movement. If felt the pain of something sharp poking into its underside.

‘Here we are said Mom. Why don’t you do it right away Timmy?’

Without warning it felt hideous pains in its sides. One, two, three places. One, two, three more! Then continuous stabbing pains in its lower side that went on for an eternity. It was in agony. At last the pain subsided.

‘Mommy will you help me with the top?’

The stabbing began again. This time on top of its body. But at least it didn’t last as long. It was beginning to grow numb to the pain. No, something was happening at the top of its body. It didn’t hurt, just felt wrong.

‘Here Timmy, I have all the insides scooped out for you.’

Then the pumpkin felt no more.” Corey grinned and the firelight flashed off of his perfect white teeth.

“That wasn’t scary,” complained Elizabeth.

“It will be when you go to carve your pumpkin tomorrow.” John tightened his arm around her in the deepening cold. Perhaps it was time to call it a night.

Sherry sat quietly sipping her cocoa. “I don’t know. The thought of scooping out pumpkin brains is kinda cool.” She dropped a kiss on Corey’s cheek.

Corey shifted his weight again. Sherry noticed, but continued to sip her chocolate.

Abruptly, Corey began to make strangled noises. Sherry dropped her cocoa. “What is it baby?”

He seemed to be choking on something. Within seconds he was turning blue.

Elizabeth panicked and kept dropping her cell phone trying to dial 911.

John was trying to see if he could clear Corey’s airway. What he found made him jump back. Stuck in Corey’s throat was the stringy insides of a raw pumpkin. John immediately reached in and began pulling them out as fast as he could, but there was so much. Corey was choking to death and there was nothing they could do about it. John just kept pulling frantically. Corey began to thrash about making John’s job harder. Finally Corey passed out, but John kept working. When he’d removed the insides of a truly large pumpkin it stopped. He and Sherry gave Corey mouth to mouth. Corey started to come around.

“Thank God.” Sherry held Corey’s head in her lap, tears streaming down her face.

Sherry started to gag. John and Corey freaked out. They immediately began clearing her airway of the offending material. With the two of them working it went faster this time.

Elizabeth was having a meltdown.

When they finally cleared all of the pumpkin from Sherry’s throat, they had to give her mouth to mouth as well.

By this time the paramedics were arriving. They checked Sherry and Corey over.

“Damn kids and their pranks. What will they do next?” One paramedic muttered to his partner.

As the paramedics were leaving the scene, the kids heard, “Man down, request additional assistance!”

©2009 T.S.Witt

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Perpetual Non-exclusive Publication Rights

And the answer is, perpetual, non-exclusive publication rights. It is supposed to be only the winner's who give up these rights, but that is not the way the provision is currently worded. And until they upgrade it, I'm afraid I won't be entering this contest. Such a pity as I had worked so hard and come up with a pretty darn good story too. Even so, I don't think I would be too keen on giving perpetual rights to anyone, even if they are non-exclusive. It just doesn't "feel" like a wise thing to do.

I Won't Give You That - Publication Rights

Well I discovered something interesting and I hope I can get it cleared up before Nov. 2. That's the deadline for the Writer's Digest Popular Fiction Awards. According to the official rules, the winners give Writer's Digest one time publication rights to their stories. However, at the end of the sign up process online, before you can submit your entry, there is a box that says you give perpetual non-exclusive publication rights to your story when you sign up. Now that's a big difference. I deleted my entry when I got to that point. I'm not giving anyone perpetual rights to my story. Also, it wasn't limited to just the winners. I hate stuff like this; it's enough to make you pull your hair out. Now with only 4 days to go, and one of them a Sunday, I had to send an email to Writer's Digest to try to get this worked out. What do you suppose my chances are of getting a response in time. There is a phone number, and I will call tomorrow, but, I need something in writing clarifying the error. It also doesn't make sense for those who mail their entries in to get one set of rules, and those who enter online to get another. We'll see what happens. Wish me luck.