It has thankfully been another productive writing week. I can never be unhappy about that, though as usual, I wish I could have written more. I'm getting into the beginning of the consequences for my main character. This exploration should be interesting.
Below is a bit of what I wrote this week. It's totally rough, unedited, and who knows if it will ever end up in the final version.
I cleaned myself up, washed my hair again, tried to get rid of the day. I dressed myself in comfort and slid into bed, putting the duvet up to my chin. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to slip away into darkness, let it take me. I wanted to dream of nothing. I stared at my dark ceiling, feeling cold, then warm in turn. I shifted. I turned. I force myself to lie still. I listened to the darks. There were no noises, I lived in a quiet neighbourhood. People were either already out or not going anywhere. I tried to empty my mind. I tried not to think of the blood that had been on the walls and floors, that had dried on my sleeves, that had soaked the clothes of my neighbours. I turned over again, squeezing my eyes shut.
My eyes popped open. I looked over at the curtained front window, lightly glowing from the moon light. I slid out of bed and crawled along the floor to the window, the pale grey carpet soft against my hands. Seated, leaning against the wall, I peeled back the pewter coloured curtain and peered across the street. There was no one there. Why would there be? Some houses had lights, some didn’t. I couldn’t see my neighbour’s house form this angle and I was relieved. I rested my head against the cold wall and shut my eyes.