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250 words everyday.
This is what 252 words looks like:
A pair of golden eyes gleamed under the pale streetlight outside Black Apple books. Indoors, Alexander Somerset stared out the plate glass window lining the entryway and he watched as the black cat – a lean stray his co-workers nicknamed Smog – ripped the head off a rat it had caught. As its dirty little body fell squirming to the ground a spurt of blood darkened the gray cement path around it.
One less rat in Boston. Good girl.
Fifteen minutes to go, then he could pick up Olivia from her friend’s house and they would both go home. He took a sip of coffee – black, bitter, and delicious. Not very busy tonight, as usual. A faint scent of rain hung in the air. Or maybe he was only imagining he could smell it, since it was thankfully dry in here among the books.
But what if he didn’t pick her up? She had been asking for weeks if she could stay the night at Samantha’s, but he hadn’t let her. He felt bad, but it was the right decision, wasn’t it? He always worried about Olivia. The first time she had had a grand mal seizure, the doctor told them she needed to take Lacosamide every day, or she would soon go into status epilepticus – continual seizures – which would likely kill her.
And there was just no way around the fact that their money was almost gone. He got butterflies in his stomach whenever he thought about it.
TBR
