it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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a/k/a Shadowhand

Which may wind up retitled Bridge of Blood & Iron. I can tell that I wrote some of this ten years ago. In my editing process, I've already cut four pages from the manuscript, and I'm only on chapter two. I've rediscovered my embarassing juvenile love affair with the definite article, the conjunction and, and a tendency to say the same thing several times in a row.

Ah, well.

This is what it looks like now:

"What do you see, girl?" Seeker asked her; she grimaced.

"Water. Waves. The sky." She glanced back over her shoulder, skin like wildflower honey once the makeup had washed away, her dark hair matted as stiff with salt as it had been with hairspray. "My name is Faye."

Seeker made an odd sound, a strangled laugh. "Certainly, it is." Then she leaned forward and kissed the girl's stone-colored eyes. The girl, who flinched and, when Seeker drew back, stared at her wild-eyed. Seeker smiled, pointing westward--where green hills welled up now, visible to the otherwise eye. Taller swells upon the ocean, hills like the call of the heart for home.

The sunlight touched those hills with gold.

The Seeker's voice rose softly, off key. "What are yonder high, high hills, the sun shines sweetly in? Those are the hills of Heaven, my love, where you will never win...."

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