NaNoWriMo - Day 2
It's a twist! Kind of not really because I already told all of you what the twist is! But eventually there will be a point where you won't know what's going on either! Won't that be fun?!
3,529 words out of 50,000
7% finished!
The next morning was the sort of morning that dawned too early, too brightly and too quickly. Her alarm jolted Vivian awake at 8:30, and she silently wished she could do as they do in the movies and smash it on the ground, killing its obnoxious and squalling insides. She remembered a Garfield cartoon her mother kept plastered above her coffee maker in the kitchen - the fat orange tabby cat wearing bunny slippers and a bathrobe, scowling at the camera, holding a steaming hot mug.
“I hate Mondays,” she said aloud to Hortense, still curled up and unmoving from her position at the foot of the bed. The cat did a valiant job of either not hearing her, or just not pretending to. Vivian tugged her bathrobe back on and went about her morning routine: teeth brushed, face washed. She showered every other day, half because she claimed it was more eco-friendly and never would kill anyone, but the other half was truthfully because she was rather lazy when it came to things like showering - it just seemed like so much effort and not all that much payoff. Truly, Vivian was driven and a go-getting in just about every department, but showers seemed to be her Achilles heel.
Downstairs, she poured some food into Hortense’s bowl and gave the cat a scratch behind the ears. “Good morning!” came a voice from the dining room. Vivian reached into the refrigerator and extracted a water pitcher, wheeling around.
“Good morning, Miss Violet!” she called back, pouring the water into a large plastic cup emblazoned with “Camp Wannanchuk 2001 - Go Green!”. Vivian then went through the arduous process of pill-popping, a ritual that took her about five minutes most mornings and would leave many other mere mortals with road rash: fish oil capsules, vitamin C, vitamin D, calcium, zinc, MSM - the list went on for about fifteen different herbal supplements that Vivian downed in three different sips of water. This done, she chugged the rest of the water, set the cup in the drying rack, and left the kitchen.
“What are you up to today, Miss Violet?” she asked, leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. Miss Violet Potts was eighty six years old, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. Today she was decked out in a sweater appliqued in fall leaves and grey sweat pants, and was currently fastening some large clip-on earrings featuring maple leaves onto her earlobes. Violet was all about being flamboyant and loud - she had once been into “the theatre,” as she said it, though to hear it from her mouth it was “the theatahhh, darling!” She sat at the table with a cup of yogurt and the morning’s paper, a pencil wedged into the bun on the nape of her neck. She perked up upon hearing Vivian’s question, pursing her lips dramatically and folding her hands on the table in front of her.
“Oh, dear! Not much I’m afraid. Oh, except I have to go to the market, they are doing that new farmers’ market today! You know, the one with the people selling all of those lovely fruits and vegetables for so cheap! I do hope that they have some fresh cheeses today. Oh, I have to go to the church, too! Macy is making the most lovely pie for our church group and she said I could help her core the apples! So I have to go to the Wal Mart and get an apple corer, don’t have one of those. And I suppose that while I am there I should probably pick up some cat litter…” Violet trailed off, looking up at the sky in thought. “So no. Not much at all really, Vivian darling!” Vivian bit back a laugh and nodded, trying to seem understanding and tolerant.
“Well, you have a good day at home relaxing then!” she laughed and walked over to the table, giving the woman an affectionate hug from behind. Violet reached up behind her and patted Vivian on the back of the hand, using the back of the chair as leverage to stand up.
“Oh ho, you know how us old folk are, Vivian! Never a dull moment, never one at all! We have just too much to do to be bored at home, now don’t we, Hortense? Don’t we!” the cat wove her way around the legs of the dining room chair mewing precociously. Violet scooped her cat up and grabbed at her paw, waving at Vivian. “Meow, you have a good day Vivian! Meow!”
“Goodbye, Hortense! Bye, Miss Violet.” Vivian turned and backtracked upstairs, grabbing her school things off a chair by the door to her bedroom and heading outside. The morning was crisp and cool, though it seemed like it might not last. She put her books, purse and pencil case in the milk crate attached to the back of her bicycle, adjusted her sweater, and peddled off. Luckily, Violet’s house was only a few blocks from the campus, and she arrived after just a few minutes’ drive.
Hooking her bike up to the rack, Vivian heard her phone make a chirruping noise. You on campus yet? I’m here eating a bagel and it’s a shame to waste such a lovely fall day alone, staring out this fingerprint-covered window with no one to love. She bit back a laugh. “Alexander,” she murmured to herself, shoving her phone back in her pocket and taking her belongings out of her milk crate. “What am I going to do with you?” About a block away, there was a small outlet of a chain bagel shop, a favorite for on-campus dining across the board, but especially before everyone has really had a chance to wake up yet.
Vivian eased the door open, and could smell the allure of freshly-baked bagels wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of coffee and pumpkin, a perfect fall morning. A few students were scattered around, reading newspapers or textbooks or typing up a storm on their laptops. She took her place in the line for orders, prying open a drink cabinet and pawing through a few bottles of fruit juices and smoothies before settling on a blended orange juice drink, claiming in large, bold letters to be great for your immune system! The woman at the counter was trying very hard, sort of in vain, to appear interested in the least at what was going on around her.
“Hello,” she said, deadpan. “Welcome to Bagel Time. I am your bagel attendant, Kelsey, here to take you on your bagel journey of a lifetime. How can I direct your flight this morning?”
“Can I please have a flaxseed bagel? Nothing on it.” Kelsey seemed a bit taken aback by this request, pausing as she punched the order into the computer.
“Just a plain bagel? Nothing on it at all? Do you at least want it toasted?” Vivian paused for a moment, thinking on it.
“Sure,” she said brightly. “That would be excellent.” Kelsey nodded slowly - the kind of look people give others that they deem weird - and turned to slice the bagel. As she fed it into the toaster, she turned back around.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything on it?” Kelsey said, almost incredulous, like she was just daring Vivian to say for a third time that she wanted a plain, unadulterated bagel. Vivian nodded, showing her teeth.
“I’m good,” She reached into her purse and extracted a small tupperware container full of what looked like butter, if butter was a lot more watery. “I have my own butter substitute.” Kelsey looked like she wanted to reach across the counter and choke her, but Vivian smiled pleasantly and passed the girl at the check out register her debit card. “Thank you very much!” she chirped, taking the paper bag from Kelsey. “Oh, do you have a knife I could borrow?”
“We have knives. Over there, in the silverware bin.”
“Oh, no, I meant like a real knife, a metal one. One that can’t be thrown away.” Kelsey’s eyebrows shot up so far Vivian thought they might recede into her hairline. She turned around, picking up a bagel slicer and proffering it to Vivian.
“This is all we have, it’s um-“
“That will be perfect, thank you!” Vivian snatched the slicer from Kelsey’s hand and turned, trying to locate Xan in the mass of tables. Alexander Faris was a blonde haired, blue eyed cherub of a young man. He had one ringlet of his curls twisted around a finger, and the other hand was picking at the cheese casing on his own bagel. He smiled up at Vivian when she appeared at his side, giving him a small kiss on the forehead before settling down in her own chair.
“What did you get?” Xan asked, dipping a finger into the cream cheese oozing out of the sides of his bagel. Vivian wrinkled her nose.
“Just a flaxseed bagel. I have that butter substitute Violet brought home on me,” She tilted her head, glancing at Xan. “What is that?”
“Asiago bagel, jalapeno cream cheese.” Xan announced it like he was prouder than words, obviously hungry. Vivian began using the serrated bagel slicer to spread some of her faux-butter on both halves of her bagel, while her boyfriend dove right in, oblivious to how silly he looked with jalapeno-speckled cream cheese stuck to the sides of his face. Vivian reached into the napkin dispenser on the tabletop and swiped a napkin over his mouth, a smile curling on her own.
“Oh, I need to return this really quickly.” She sat down the halves of her bagel and picked up the slicer, standing up to go back to the counter and return it. Her gaze flickered to the televisions mounted to the walls behind the register, presumably to keep the attention of students waiting in line. One flashed ESPN’s sports highlights, a slow news crawl of a ticker. The other one showed top news stories worldwide, though it seemed to currently be showing local news. Interested, Vivian kept her eyes on the news ticker, stopping in her tracks.
The closed captioning on the television screen was going about a mile a minute as a very harried-looking reporter informed her captive audience about some sort of urgent news. “… the victim was one Robert Burgess, an older gentleman in his fifties. We are unsure at this moment exactly of how he passed, but sources say it appears that his throat was slit.” A picture of Robert Burgess appeared, filling the screen. Vivian paused mid-step, unthinkingly closing her hand around the blade of the knife. Wincing, she bit back a yelp. This was absolutely, unequivocally the man she had dreamt about the night before.
Once again, any and all commentary is greatly appreciated. I was feeling very frustrated this morning, and I think it shows in my writing, but hopefully not too bad? Let me know what you think!
3,529 words out of 50,000
7% finished!
The next morning was the sort of morning that dawned too early, too brightly and too quickly. Her alarm jolted Vivian awake at 8:30, and she silently wished she could do as they do in the movies and smash it on the ground, killing its obnoxious and squalling insides. She remembered a Garfield cartoon her mother kept plastered above her coffee maker in the kitchen - the fat orange tabby cat wearing bunny slippers and a bathrobe, scowling at the camera, holding a steaming hot mug.
“I hate Mondays,” she said aloud to Hortense, still curled up and unmoving from her position at the foot of the bed. The cat did a valiant job of either not hearing her, or just not pretending to. Vivian tugged her bathrobe back on and went about her morning routine: teeth brushed, face washed. She showered every other day, half because she claimed it was more eco-friendly and never would kill anyone, but the other half was truthfully because she was rather lazy when it came to things like showering - it just seemed like so much effort and not all that much payoff. Truly, Vivian was driven and a go-getting in just about every department, but showers seemed to be her Achilles heel.
Downstairs, she poured some food into Hortense’s bowl and gave the cat a scratch behind the ears. “Good morning!” came a voice from the dining room. Vivian reached into the refrigerator and extracted a water pitcher, wheeling around.
“Good morning, Miss Violet!” she called back, pouring the water into a large plastic cup emblazoned with “Camp Wannanchuk 2001 - Go Green!”. Vivian then went through the arduous process of pill-popping, a ritual that took her about five minutes most mornings and would leave many other mere mortals with road rash: fish oil capsules, vitamin C, vitamin D, calcium, zinc, MSM - the list went on for about fifteen different herbal supplements that Vivian downed in three different sips of water. This done, she chugged the rest of the water, set the cup in the drying rack, and left the kitchen.
“What are you up to today, Miss Violet?” she asked, leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. Miss Violet Potts was eighty six years old, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. Today she was decked out in a sweater appliqued in fall leaves and grey sweat pants, and was currently fastening some large clip-on earrings featuring maple leaves onto her earlobes. Violet was all about being flamboyant and loud - she had once been into “the theatre,” as she said it, though to hear it from her mouth it was “the theatahhh, darling!” She sat at the table with a cup of yogurt and the morning’s paper, a pencil wedged into the bun on the nape of her neck. She perked up upon hearing Vivian’s question, pursing her lips dramatically and folding her hands on the table in front of her.
“Oh, dear! Not much I’m afraid. Oh, except I have to go to the market, they are doing that new farmers’ market today! You know, the one with the people selling all of those lovely fruits and vegetables for so cheap! I do hope that they have some fresh cheeses today. Oh, I have to go to the church, too! Macy is making the most lovely pie for our church group and she said I could help her core the apples! So I have to go to the Wal Mart and get an apple corer, don’t have one of those. And I suppose that while I am there I should probably pick up some cat litter…” Violet trailed off, looking up at the sky in thought. “So no. Not much at all really, Vivian darling!” Vivian bit back a laugh and nodded, trying to seem understanding and tolerant.
“Well, you have a good day at home relaxing then!” she laughed and walked over to the table, giving the woman an affectionate hug from behind. Violet reached up behind her and patted Vivian on the back of the hand, using the back of the chair as leverage to stand up.
“Oh ho, you know how us old folk are, Vivian! Never a dull moment, never one at all! We have just too much to do to be bored at home, now don’t we, Hortense? Don’t we!” the cat wove her way around the legs of the dining room chair mewing precociously. Violet scooped her cat up and grabbed at her paw, waving at Vivian. “Meow, you have a good day Vivian! Meow!”
“Goodbye, Hortense! Bye, Miss Violet.” Vivian turned and backtracked upstairs, grabbing her school things off a chair by the door to her bedroom and heading outside. The morning was crisp and cool, though it seemed like it might not last. She put her books, purse and pencil case in the milk crate attached to the back of her bicycle, adjusted her sweater, and peddled off. Luckily, Violet’s house was only a few blocks from the campus, and she arrived after just a few minutes’ drive.
Hooking her bike up to the rack, Vivian heard her phone make a chirruping noise. You on campus yet? I’m here eating a bagel and it’s a shame to waste such a lovely fall day alone, staring out this fingerprint-covered window with no one to love. She bit back a laugh. “Alexander,” she murmured to herself, shoving her phone back in her pocket and taking her belongings out of her milk crate. “What am I going to do with you?” About a block away, there was a small outlet of a chain bagel shop, a favorite for on-campus dining across the board, but especially before everyone has really had a chance to wake up yet.
Vivian eased the door open, and could smell the allure of freshly-baked bagels wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of coffee and pumpkin, a perfect fall morning. A few students were scattered around, reading newspapers or textbooks or typing up a storm on their laptops. She took her place in the line for orders, prying open a drink cabinet and pawing through a few bottles of fruit juices and smoothies before settling on a blended orange juice drink, claiming in large, bold letters to be great for your immune system! The woman at the counter was trying very hard, sort of in vain, to appear interested in the least at what was going on around her.
“Hello,” she said, deadpan. “Welcome to Bagel Time. I am your bagel attendant, Kelsey, here to take you on your bagel journey of a lifetime. How can I direct your flight this morning?”
“Can I please have a flaxseed bagel? Nothing on it.” Kelsey seemed a bit taken aback by this request, pausing as she punched the order into the computer.
“Just a plain bagel? Nothing on it at all? Do you at least want it toasted?” Vivian paused for a moment, thinking on it.
“Sure,” she said brightly. “That would be excellent.” Kelsey nodded slowly - the kind of look people give others that they deem weird - and turned to slice the bagel. As she fed it into the toaster, she turned back around.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything on it?” Kelsey said, almost incredulous, like she was just daring Vivian to say for a third time that she wanted a plain, unadulterated bagel. Vivian nodded, showing her teeth.
“I’m good,” She reached into her purse and extracted a small tupperware container full of what looked like butter, if butter was a lot more watery. “I have my own butter substitute.” Kelsey looked like she wanted to reach across the counter and choke her, but Vivian smiled pleasantly and passed the girl at the check out register her debit card. “Thank you very much!” she chirped, taking the paper bag from Kelsey. “Oh, do you have a knife I could borrow?”
“We have knives. Over there, in the silverware bin.”
“Oh, no, I meant like a real knife, a metal one. One that can’t be thrown away.” Kelsey’s eyebrows shot up so far Vivian thought they might recede into her hairline. She turned around, picking up a bagel slicer and proffering it to Vivian.
“This is all we have, it’s um-“
“That will be perfect, thank you!” Vivian snatched the slicer from Kelsey’s hand and turned, trying to locate Xan in the mass of tables. Alexander Faris was a blonde haired, blue eyed cherub of a young man. He had one ringlet of his curls twisted around a finger, and the other hand was picking at the cheese casing on his own bagel. He smiled up at Vivian when she appeared at his side, giving him a small kiss on the forehead before settling down in her own chair.
“What did you get?” Xan asked, dipping a finger into the cream cheese oozing out of the sides of his bagel. Vivian wrinkled her nose.
“Just a flaxseed bagel. I have that butter substitute Violet brought home on me,” She tilted her head, glancing at Xan. “What is that?”
“Asiago bagel, jalapeno cream cheese.” Xan announced it like he was prouder than words, obviously hungry. Vivian began using the serrated bagel slicer to spread some of her faux-butter on both halves of her bagel, while her boyfriend dove right in, oblivious to how silly he looked with jalapeno-speckled cream cheese stuck to the sides of his face. Vivian reached into the napkin dispenser on the tabletop and swiped a napkin over his mouth, a smile curling on her own.
“Oh, I need to return this really quickly.” She sat down the halves of her bagel and picked up the slicer, standing up to go back to the counter and return it. Her gaze flickered to the televisions mounted to the walls behind the register, presumably to keep the attention of students waiting in line. One flashed ESPN’s sports highlights, a slow news crawl of a ticker. The other one showed top news stories worldwide, though it seemed to currently be showing local news. Interested, Vivian kept her eyes on the news ticker, stopping in her tracks.
The closed captioning on the television screen was going about a mile a minute as a very harried-looking reporter informed her captive audience about some sort of urgent news. “… the victim was one Robert Burgess, an older gentleman in his fifties. We are unsure at this moment exactly of how he passed, but sources say it appears that his throat was slit.” A picture of Robert Burgess appeared, filling the screen. Vivian paused mid-step, unthinkingly closing her hand around the blade of the knife. Wincing, she bit back a yelp. This was absolutely, unequivocally the man she had dreamt about the night before.
Once again, any and all commentary is greatly appreciated. I was feeling very frustrated this morning, and I think it shows in my writing, but hopefully not too bad? Let me know what you think!