It’s been a busy week already! I am fully ready to acknowledge that I have been a MAJOR slacker on the self-editing tips this month. Not to worry, though, the efforts have been placed elsewhere. Acephalous is truly finished. I just ordered the reprint yesterday so I can give it one more just-in-case read through before publishing. That means you’ll only be getting one more sneak peek after this. Don’t want to give too much away about the ending 🙂 I’ve also been busy preparing materials for the James River Writers Conference in October (are you going?), editing for a client, and getting a head start on school reading (classes start Monday). So, basically, breaking a sweat without leaving my desk. Enough about me. HOW ARE YOU? Tell me what you’ve got going on at your desk in the comments below.
In the meantime, here’s a peek at chapter 19.
In her room, Breena stripped out of her clothes, put on her baggiest t-shirt, and climbed into bed. She hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, so there was no need to turn them out, but she did pull the light-blocking shade down over her window. In the drawer of her nightstand lay her iPod. Breena checked the battery—it was fully charged—so she popped in the earbuds and put the playlist on shuffle. Last step in her preparation for an epic nap was pulling the covers up to her neck, rolling onto her belly, and tucking the blankets under her sides, feet, and shoulders to cocoon herself. She was ready to find Atlas.
It took Breena thirty minutes to fall asleep, but once she was out, getting to the clearing was a quick trip. Atlas was clearly not in the opening, so she checked the few trees he made a habit of sitting under. She wasn’t certain how she knew which his favorites were; it was almost as if she could feel the vibrations of his energy left over in those spots. Maybe he’s not here.
A strong sensation of desire and belonging pulled her toward the chapel, which had been recreated. In addition to its original state, there was a plaque in front, now. Breena moved to read the inscription, “Rebuilt for My Love, NEVER to be destroyed again.” How touching. Remaining animosity toward Atlas rose up her spine.
It occurred to Breena that she had never been inside the chapel, despite the number of times she had seen it in her dreams and visited it here. The white doors were not locked, but it took a lot of effort to pull the solid wooden masses open. Once she got the doors wide, they stayed open as if the doors themselves agreed that the tiny church needed airing out.
The wooden floor boards creaked as Breena walked between the two columns of pews. At the very front of the chapel, the stained glass window was even larger than she had dreamed so long ago. She sat on the floor and stared up at it.
What am I even doing here? I need a plan. As Breena thought about the purpose of her journey, a dove flew in and landed on the back of the first pew. It cocked its head to the left and to the right, and Breena expected it to fly back out of the chapel. It stayed.
“Well at least I’m not talking to myself, now, right?” she chuckled. Talking to a bird didn’t make her feel any better about herself, but there was added clarity to her thoughts knowing that another cognitive creature could hear her. “I miss him,” was her first admission to the bird.
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