Observations: When I finally got back to writing today, all of the morning’s momentum and writerly high vanished. This was back to feeling a bit painful.
Disclaimer: Draft, draft, draft, errors, typos, bad writing.
Total word count: 21,041
2297 behind 😦
You can read previous sections here.
How can familiar dog know he’s black ops? Couldn’t he be just a spy?
Familiar dog looks up at me instead of answering. I’m surprised. I didn’t know she could be quiet. She snorts, which makes Heath frown.
“Yep, may be one of a kind.” Of that, I am positive.
I glance around to see if his Gran is nearby. She usually has a baked goods table that she runs with the ladies from her church. It’s usually swarmed, which is probably why I can’t see her. However, in looking around, I notice a young woman I’ve never seen before watching us with more than a passing interest. She’s a tiny, brunette with her arms crossed, leaning against a black SUV. She looks ticked, and when she sees that I’ve noticed her, her eyes narrow. Interesting. After turning around, she opens the door of the SUV, climbs in and shuts the door. The windows have dark glazing, so I can no longer see her.
Heath’s gaze follows mine and for a split second I see frustration in his eyes before its gone.
“I need to go,” he says. He strides away before I can say anything, even “goodbye.” He reaches into his pockets and jabs at his cell.
“Very interesting,” I say to familiar dog. Part of me feels disappointed. He’s clearly not attracted to me. Is he just interested in what he thinks I might be?
Deflated, I continue walking around the parking lot and adjacent grounds with familiar dog at my side, ever alert.
“My name is Moira.”
I stop in my tracks. “Moira? That’s a complicated name for a dog.”
“I’m a complicated dog.”
True words. We continue. I want to ask, “Why Moira?” but decide there’s enough time for that. Just as I’m passing the deep-fried everything stand, I see the blond tower. Crouching down, I duck behind some bushes. Moira stands next to me and stares.
“You forgetting you’re wearing a three foot tall pointy hat?”
A sudden wind kicks leaves around us.
“Crap,” I pull it off. “Do you think he saw?”
“What do you think?” Moira asks as the blond tower comes to stand next to us.
“Hide and seek time?” he asks.
“Yeah. You want to play?”
He smiles. Amazing! He can smile. It transforms his entire face. He’s actually nice looking when he loses his perpetual stern face.
“That depends. Does your world still depend on me?”
I grimace. He grins.
“Are you recovered? I heard about your accident.”
I pluck leaves from my skirt. “Quite recovered, thanks.”
“You have a dog,” he comments, sitting on his haunches to pet Moira who leans into him. Her eyes seem to go back into her head as she sighs.
Great. My familiar has gone to the dark side.
“This isn’t the one who was in the woods. This is a nice one.”
“A nice one?” I repeat.
“Pardon?” he asks, looking up at me, perplexed.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Which sounds just as crazy.
When he stands, his eyes dart to my ears as if trying to determine whether I’m wearing an earbud or some other kind of aural device. I can see the gears shifting in his head and know that he’s about to provide an excuse to flee.
“I have to go,” he says. “It was nice seeing you again. I will see you around.”
Right. I know that he sees me first, I’ll never see him.
Just like that, I’ve chased two men away in the space of ten minutes. That must be some kind of record. Happy Halloween.
end of Day 14