I was on vacation last week and chose to give myself a week off from writing a drabble, because I also discovered that I had to work on vacation and it might be nice to–what’s the word? Starts with an ‘r.’ Responsible. Reject. Relax.
Anyway, 2016 has begun. Somewhere on my to-do list is starting a monthly blog roundup about the various media I consume because I’d like to write more reviews, particularly of books, which are and always will be my very first love and I believe in singing my love from whatever high places are available to me. But for now, I am plodding along, treading water, working and planning and crossing things off of a to-do list that just keeps growing. Ain’t that just the way.
Here’s what 2016 looks like so far: podcasts to plan, books to read, words to write. I wrote some words–here they are, a drabble.
(Noun: From Italian adumbrō for ‘cast a shadow upon,’ ‘sketch,’ ‘imitate or counterfeit.’)
A sketch, a shadow, foreshadowing.
It comes in like a fog at the edges of her mind, so she begins with the outline first, drawing the charcoal over the paper in thick lines, leaving the middle untouched.
It creeps in further and her skin grows cold. With quick little strokes she adds detail—arms, legs, teeth—but the eyes she leaves in stark white, trying not to look too hard at their blankness on the paper.
Her teeth are chattering and it takes all her energy to hold the charcoal steady. It swallows her up—hair, bones, and all—as she draws the final line.