Morning all. I hope you are doing well. I have to admit I am struggling with the time change. I do not like getting up before the sun has time to at least lighten the edge of the horizon. I mean if it isn’t thinking of getting up, why should I? Soon enough though that won’t be the case. I realize that it’s just that first little while when you go from the sky starting to lighten when your alarm goes off to there being no sun when the alarm sounds that throws me off. The rain storms aren’t helping in fact we may not get any sun at all today. But still the day goes on. So Timers set and sun or no let’s get started with our morning prompt.
I like this. I am going to have to figure out the story because I have no clue what it is, but I like it. So lunchtime plotting and outlining it is today. Mmm, tasty plot lines with soup on the side (Tomato basil in case you were wondering)
Thursday, March 12th: She smiled warmly.
She smiled warmly. Dave couldn’t help but smile back in response even though he was certain his smile wasn’t up to it’s usual standard. His face and everything else for that matter, was just too tired for the muscles to work at their normal capacity. He was certain his smile was more of a twitching of the lips in a vaguely upward direction.
He was convinced that even his hair was exhausted.
“The room is ready for you,” she told him. “Why don’t you go get settled? Unless you’d like something to eat?”
Dave shook his head. He crammed something in his mouth he recalled as being somewhat sandwich shaped at the last rest stop so his stomach wasn’t complaining right now. He was certain his digestive track would make him pay for whatever he forced it to contend with but that was of later concerns. Sleep was more of an immediate need.
She turned and led him through a doorway. He tried not to feel disheartened when he saw the staircase and realized he had to climb. Luckily there was a railing. She climbed ahead of him, her steps light little patters on each step, delicate and easy. She almost seemed to float up the stairs.
He felt like the monster clomping up behind her. His tread was heavy, labored and he gripped the hand rail to either side of the narrow stair as though he expected gale force winds from above to knock him back down to the ground floor.
They reached the top and it felt like a victory. Luckily the door to his room was not far away. It was the first on the left. She opened it and stepped to the side.
“I’m sure you will find everything you need,” she told him. “If you don’t, let me know and I’ll bring it up.”
He nodded. “Thanks,” he managed. His voice rough and gravelly. She nodded and left him to settle. He walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He listened to the quiet patter of her feet retreating. When he thought she was far enough away not to hear the sound, he locked the door. He didn’t want to insult the hospitality, but he was also too paranoid not to lock it.
If nothing else, the last few weeks taught him caution.
The room was sparse. A bed with a nightstand to either side, a chest of drawers, a door leading to a small bathroom. It was clean and the bed was freshly made, but the chest of drawers and nightstands each had a thin layer of dust on the top. The room was hastily prepared, but he guessed it didn’t see much use.
He slipped his rucksack off his back. He put it on the far side of the bed, between the wall and the bed. It was within easy reach for him but no one else would be able to get to it without his knowledge. Out of habit he looked under the bed. There was nothing there. He investigated each of the drawers of the dresser. There was an extra blanket in the lower drawer and all others were empty. Each nightstand had a drawer and he checked in each. One had a collection of three pens and a small notepad. The notepad had the logo for the local electric company at the top.
Ten til Midnight 