Words today: 4286. Words in total: 12,000.
Favourite line: And the two of them could have been quite the team, especially if Trish was willing to overlook the occasional dead body in the hallway.
Warm-up Writing: Piles of leaves creeped her out.
She hated how they smelled, she hated their brown crumpled shapes. She hated how they looked in a pile, hated how they came to life and skittered across her driveway in the wind. She hated the word skittered. When the word came to mind, because there was no other way to describe the moving leaves, she would shudder and wish that she hadn’t thought about it.
Despite all that, it wasn’t really the leaves themselves that were the problem. The problem was that they created space for things that she would rather not nurture. Under the leaves there was room for worms, and beetles and those tiny things with all the legs that her sister insisted were centipedes but Laura insisted were too small to have that name. If the leaves didn’t pile up, and they would, no matter how diligent you were with the rake, then all of those bugs would probably still exist but they would be far better hidden. Then, Laura wouldn’t have a reminder of their existence all of the time and she wouldn’t have to slow her breathing to look out in her own yard. She could go most of the year without being afraid of bugs, even spiders in the shower didn’t upset her, but somehow once fall came, the world felt like a blanket of creepy crawlies trying to draw themselves up over her shoulder all the time.
Fall was bad enough, with the sky darkening so early, with the smell of rot rolling out of the woods, with people chirping on about sweaters, and with Christmas boosting starting right after Hallowe’en. The leaves were really the final straw, the thing that would tip the balance between her being ‘Fine’ when people asked and her growling at them in some sort of primal fashion for daring to inquire.
She just couldn’t live with the notion of the leaves, dank beds for bugs laid our across her back lawn. Usually she was out there immediately after they fell, raking like her life depended on it, but this time they had come down in a bit of a rainstorm and they were slick before she could get to them. There was no way she was taking a rake to them now, to have beetles and bugs of all kinds rushing away from the areas exposed by her instrument. She was going to have to hire someone to take them all away, rake them, bag them and remove them. She didn’t usually shy away from difficult tasks but she wasn’t getting close to this one. It was bad enough to see the leaves at this point, if she raked then dreams of slippery critters would crawl through her nights and she’d never rest again.
She wasn’t even bothering to try to live with her fear, or to take control of it, she just wanted to be on the other side of it and able to look out her window again.
Piles of leaves just creeped her out.