Friday through Thursday, I keep track of what the first line of text I wrote on my works in progress. Here is this week’s words!
Friday: “Mm. He’s nice. I mean, he’s… he’s a decent kisser.”
Saturday: Her blue eyes welled up again, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Sunday: What happened? I don’t know. But I didn’t write a work today. Oh yeah. Laundry. Visiting with Grandma & Grandpa.
Monday: “Yeah, but then there was the time in the back of the truck with the dog watching.”
Tuesday: Barris tore through the trees and brush, ripping a gash in his thigh.
Wednesday: She stretched on the bed, her front feet reaching out, her butt up in the air.
Thursday: Mowing. (No, really, that’s the first line I wrote today.) She hated mowing, but it had to be done. With a sigh, she turned the key in the ignition. The tractor rumbled to life, black smoke coughing up from under the hood.