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valarltdLong day at work.
And tomorrow looks to be longer.
2525 words written. Not bad.
7943 for the month. I'm only about 400 words behind now.
Have a movie to watch, but not feeling it.
High enough pain day that Mudd had to pop my shoulders and still had to undo my bra because I don't have enough motion in my left shoulder to do it.
Off to bed.
Have some very raw wordage:
As the time of the visit ran down in silence, David finally spoke up. “Good to see you. Mr. Ligatos. And if you come back in another two months, you should be just in time to watch them bury me.”
Ligatos looked up at that. He swept David with a dismissive gaze. “Perhaps I will. October should have a funeral in it.”
“I won't see twenty. It's getting worse by the day.” He looked down at the tabletop, more tired than angry. “Your idea?”
“I came to ask again, if there is anything I could do.”
David sighed. The same song and dance. The man was impossible. “You keep asking that. I don't want any of the little favors they'll let you give, care packages, posters, toiletries. What I want is out of this hole. And you can't do that so why am I even bothering you with it?”
One eyebrow went up. David saw it and knew valuable information was about to come his way. “You haven't asked, have you?”
Ligatos' words confirmed what he had suspected. But there needed to be one more feint before the final strike. “I could ask you to give me the moon and a string to swing it and have the same hope of getting it answered.”
Ligatos rose. “Then I suppose I am truly done here.” He looked at the guard. “I will be back in two months then, to collect his body. He will be buried in Italy, with the rest of my failures.”
The reality of the words sank in. The Ligatos Game had played itself out. David did not want to die. It was time to surrender.
“Please,” he whispered to the tabletop. It was the first time he had said the word in a serious way since he had reached double-digits. He saw Ligatos pause. “Please, if you can take me with you, do so while I still breathe?”
Ligatos gave the guard a nod. David waited for him to be let out. Then he expected to be hauled off to a deserted service corridor to pay the guard for his wait time before being tossed back to his owner.
Instead, David found himself cuffed into traveling shackles and the keys handed to Ligatos. The guard saw them to the gate, where a smoke-gray limousine waited. Ligatos got in, and when David hesitated, the guard shoved him, sending him sprawling onto the floor before shutting the door.
He landed on his bad wrist, the pain making the world go gray for a moment. He felt pain and a trickle of blood down his back and knew he'd popped some stitches. That was no matter, save the fear of bleeding on the leather seats. Ligatos' doctor could stitch him back up, even more neatly that the prison doctor.
David pulled himself to his knees, the shackles interfering with his motion. Ligatos reached out and caught his good wrist, the key in his other hand. Once freed, David settled back on his heels and waited. “It can't possibly be so easy.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“It seems the Eight are real, and very powerful.” He rode in silence for a while, waiting to see if Ligatos would say anything. He sorted out in his mind how best to make it clear he was no longer the arrogant brat, but only what Ligatos wanted him to be. “What would you have of me, Mr. Ligatos?”
“You will see, when we return home. Your freedom comes with a price, David.”
And tomorrow looks to be longer.
2525 words written. Not bad.
7943 for the month. I'm only about 400 words behind now.
Have a movie to watch, but not feeling it.
High enough pain day that Mudd had to pop my shoulders and still had to undo my bra because I don't have enough motion in my left shoulder to do it.
Off to bed.
Have some very raw wordage:
As the time of the visit ran down in silence, David finally spoke up. “Good to see you. Mr. Ligatos. And if you come back in another two months, you should be just in time to watch them bury me.”
Ligatos looked up at that. He swept David with a dismissive gaze. “Perhaps I will. October should have a funeral in it.”
“I won't see twenty. It's getting worse by the day.” He looked down at the tabletop, more tired than angry. “Your idea?”
“I came to ask again, if there is anything I could do.”
David sighed. The same song and dance. The man was impossible. “You keep asking that. I don't want any of the little favors they'll let you give, care packages, posters, toiletries. What I want is out of this hole. And you can't do that so why am I even bothering you with it?”
One eyebrow went up. David saw it and knew valuable information was about to come his way. “You haven't asked, have you?”
Ligatos' words confirmed what he had suspected. But there needed to be one more feint before the final strike. “I could ask you to give me the moon and a string to swing it and have the same hope of getting it answered.”
Ligatos rose. “Then I suppose I am truly done here.” He looked at the guard. “I will be back in two months then, to collect his body. He will be buried in Italy, with the rest of my failures.”
The reality of the words sank in. The Ligatos Game had played itself out. David did not want to die. It was time to surrender.
“Please,” he whispered to the tabletop. It was the first time he had said the word in a serious way since he had reached double-digits. He saw Ligatos pause. “Please, if you can take me with you, do so while I still breathe?”
Ligatos gave the guard a nod. David waited for him to be let out. Then he expected to be hauled off to a deserted service corridor to pay the guard for his wait time before being tossed back to his owner.
Instead, David found himself cuffed into traveling shackles and the keys handed to Ligatos. The guard saw them to the gate, where a smoke-gray limousine waited. Ligatos got in, and when David hesitated, the guard shoved him, sending him sprawling onto the floor before shutting the door.
He landed on his bad wrist, the pain making the world go gray for a moment. He felt pain and a trickle of blood down his back and knew he'd popped some stitches. That was no matter, save the fear of bleeding on the leather seats. Ligatos' doctor could stitch him back up, even more neatly that the prison doctor.
David pulled himself to his knees, the shackles interfering with his motion. Ligatos reached out and caught his good wrist, the key in his other hand. Once freed, David settled back on his heels and waited. “It can't possibly be so easy.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“It seems the Eight are real, and very powerful.” He rode in silence for a while, waiting to see if Ligatos would say anything. He sorted out in his mind how best to make it clear he was no longer the arrogant brat, but only what Ligatos wanted him to be. “What would you have of me, Mr. Ligatos?”
“You will see, when we return home. Your freedom comes with a price, David.”
