First Snippets of a Story!

walrus 2

I’ve got such giddy feelings linking up this post—ever since I found Whisperings of the Pen, I’ve enjoyed reading other peoples’ snippets.  Sadly, these snippets aren’t as recently written as I would hope; Broken Glass kept me busy with edits during February.  But I’m so happy to finally link up!  So without further ado, here are some scribblings of my own.

***************

With a quick and up-and-down glance, Jamie assessed the Walrus.  “But you look, er, plump to me.”

A sigh erupted from the Walrus.  “And you haven’t lived among walruses all your life.  If you saw some of my relatives, you’d understand!  They’re marvelously massive!  Splendidly substantial!  Admirably ample!”  With each emphatic statement, the walrus looked more and more deflated, like an old party balloon.

 

–A Ticket to Yonder

“I couldn’t find him.”  Errol’s eyes turned back to Calibrey Hall.  “Your brother will have to live without his dog.”

“I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Colette laughed.  “I’ve never liked dogs.”

“Why?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know…maybe it’s because they shed and slobber and reek of the disgusting things they roll in.”

–House of Featherstone

“Well, isn’t he a stick in the mud,” Leda sniffed.  She sniffed louder than she meant, and the balloon heard. With a slow twirl, he turned from his laptop and coffee to face them.

“If only I were as good as a stick in the mud,” he moaned.  “A stick is firm in the ground; it is purposely stubborn and down-in-the-dumps.  I am a balloon, fated to waft in the every-changing winds, pushed around by my senseless desires and fleeting fancies—”

“Oh, shut up,” the Walrus said irritably.  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

–A Ticket to Yonder

Nicholas slumped back in his seat and rubbed his face.  “Why are you so closed-minded?”

“I beg your pardon?”  She raised a blond eyebrow.  “I am not closed-minded.  I simply find no attraction in hurtling across the countryside surrounded by a thin casing of metal.”

“Oh, and bumbling over little backwoods roads in a matchbox is so much better.”  Nicholas rolled his eyes.  As if to agree with him, the carriage jostled over another hump in the road.  Though she was almost unceremoniously smashed into the window, Colette managed to keep her composure.  She usually did.

–House of Featherstone

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