This morning I began work, and right now I'm at about 1200 words so far. If I can keep up this pace, I'll be fine, but I expect to hit writer's block about another 20 pages in or so. *wry smiles* But so far I'm happy with it. Not exstatic -- this isn't great writing. But at least its palatable. *smiles*
No title yet. I'll find one eventually.
"What is it?"
Janie peered over Mallory's shoulder, pulling back the fall of her sister's dark hair so that she could better see the object Mallory held. It was rectangular and ornate, with delicate pewter scrollwork in a vine wound all across the top. Mallory cupped the box in her hands, her thumb moving across the front until she found the catch. She pushed.
Mallory popped her thumb into her mouth, sucking away the tiny spot of blood that welled up.
"What happened?" Janie peered at the box, then at Mallory.
"She cut herself on the box, numbnut." Sean's tone was dry and derisive, as only a teenage boy can sound. He was crouched in front of Mallory, and he stood now, pacing away, back into the dark reaches of the attic. Rain pounded down on the roof above, masking the sound of his footsteps.
"I'm okay," Mallory assured both of them. They weren't really worried, she knew. They were bored, and anxious for any entertainment. And this attic was the best the world had to offer right now. Since Dad took his car to work, and Grandma Kel was at a friend's house, they were locked inside. Unless they wanted to risk the summer storm – a typical upstate New York downpour. They'd hoped it would pass quickly, but after an hour of watching rivers run down the windows, they had decided to explore the old house.
Typical, Mallory thought. Like an old-style kid's book, where the three kids find adventure waiting for them in an old attic, and find out secrets about their family that they never knew. She looked back down at the box in her hand and laughed internally. Secrets? Yeah. So far they'd found some costume jewelry – which Janie was wearing – and some old clothes that were moth eaten. A few pictures, which they'd set aside, hoping that Grandma Kel might be able to at least tell them who they were. And that was about it. The rest of it was junk – toys to old and dilapidated to be played with, or for children far younger than they were.
"Are you going to open it?" Janie's words intruded into Mallory's private world.
"Huh? Yeah…" Mallory held up the box close to her eyes, wishing again that they'd been able to find the spare lightbulbs so they had more than an old battery operated lantern for light. She peered at the catch. It was a simple one, just a little flap that came down over a half-circle of metal, so that a lock could be passed through it if the owner wished. But there was no lock now. Mallory reached tentatively for the catch, feeling the slight dampness of her own blood slick upon the metal. She squirmed inside at that, never having liked the sight of blood. But this time no roughness caught at her skin, and she flipped the catch up, then tugged the lid of the box open.Posted by Deb Atwood at November 01, 2002 01:10 PM | TrackBack