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bear by san

March 2017

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lion in winter broken because you're bri

i'll be writing more in a week or two

More editorial process...

Neither one of them spoke, and Tsering imagined the sound of her footfalls dying away into the mist as she passed.

Neither one of them spoke, and Tsering imagined him watching after her, listening to the sound of her footfalls dying away into the mist.

Neither one of them spoke, and Tsering imagined him watching after her, listening to the sound of her footfalls dying.

Neither one of them spoke, and Tsering imagined him watching after her, listening to her footfalls dying.

Neither one of them spoke. Tsering imagined him watching after her, listening to her footfalls dying.

Neither spoke. Tsering imagined him watching after her, listening to her footfalls dying.

Comments

story of my life... paralyzing number of options
I prefer the second option. I dislike the use of "footfalls dying" without some context, "into the mist" in this case.

Otherwise, I keep wondering if the footfalls are making tiny whimpering noises as they die
Silly rabbit. Footfalls clutch their arches, stagger and fall over with their toes clenched tight in agony. Their sounds, however, have already died out.
But what if they're wearing squeaky shoes?
I love reading these process posts, getting an insight to writer-as-sculptor work.