Short Story Project: Update 1

So it’s been about three weeks since I first mentioned my short story project, tentatively named “Those Things Called Humans”.   Quite honestly things have been going really slowly.  I’ve edited two stories and added them to my document, started completely writing another story and then started a fourth.  But this isn’t going to be a post complaining, or making excuses, its going to be an introduce everyone to my stories post!   I know that sounds super exciting, but it’s really not going to be that amazing. I’m really just giving you a one sentence summary and a paragraph of a snippet.  My wordcount for this project is now 6,105.

First story in my book is “The Boy”.  The story is about a twelve year old boy who is the sole provider for his family during the depression.

Click. The boy turned off his lamp and crawled into bed with his four year old brother. The boy had been reading or escaping as he called it. Because the world was too deathly real for him; if he read, he could pull his eyes away from the ribs of his brother as his chest rose and fell in agonizing gasps. If he could read, he could forget the dull look in the eyes of his mother, who had no more tears to cry. if he could read, he could leave behind responsibility and worries and money counting and the adult world.  If he could read he could live a life in which people lived happily ever after.

 

Second story is titled “A List of Regrets”.   This story is about a girl right before she commits suicide.

Regret I: I Am A Coward

The water gushed from the tap into the white, clean, new tub.  My friend’s tub.  The water was hot.  My fingers were starting to burn but still I held them under the water, mesmerized. At least if I’m going to do this, it’s going to be warm water. That made me smile a little.  I’m such a coward. Peeling off my layers of clothes I checked the clock. 5 am.  Three hours till Derrick would get home. I wanted to look at myself one last time before I did it. I’m not sure why.  Maybe I had one small hope left in me, the hope that I wasn’t such a coward. Women spend so much of their life worrying if they have ‘’the perfect body’’, or if they are ‘’sexy enough”.  I never had to worry about that.  I embodied the word sex.  The hips, the legs, the breasts, the boys loved them. Three years ago at sixteen that meant the world to me.

 

So there you go! Monday’s mandatory post is done.   I hope you enjoyed.

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