200 Words Weekly

This last week has been very productive. My multitude of self imposed 200 words sessions are finally paying off.

I managed a total of around 6k words last week and got my chapter finished. I’m very pleased with myself. I have the plans for the next one to hand and already on the go. I’m having far too much fun to be allowed. It’s at times like this that I’m thankful I’m not religious, guilt free pleasure is the best. Life is good. So, what was there to report from last week?

Well, Valentines Day happened

Today is our Anniversary.

We both totally forgot.

I found out it was the 14th this morning by looking at FB and going Wow, why are there so many Valentines articles on here?

Then I looked at the date and went “FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

Sam came running into the room asking what had happened and I said it was the 14th today.

He went, “So?” and looked at me as if I was a crazy person.

When I pointed out that was our anniversary he said “Oh yeah, happy anniversary” and gave me a kiss.

I love that man.

He really doesn’t stand on ceremony. It’s not a date that matters to him. It’s how you live.

Luckily for us a little present we had ordered for me (because, hey, who doesn’t love presents and Sam was sick of me stealing his onsie) arrived, so I got an impromptu present AND a nice meal! Sam specifically told me not to get him anything about a week ago…so I shall provide him with food and lots of snuggles…in a silly Panda onesie. I look awesome as a Panda.

Panda Power!
And lots of writing…a bit over 200 words…

Jim couldn’t quite put his finger on the moment he’d made the decision to go to Sebastian’s uptown apartment but as he set eyes on his friend’s tired face, he knew it had been the right call.

He swept past the slightly shorter man as he opened the door and Sebastian, for his part, stood aside to let him in.

Sighing and tying the cord on his navy blue dressing gown tighter Sebastian looked at the grandfather clock on the wall. It was well past midnight. Resignedly he asked, “What’s happened this time? Who’s secretly plotting to overthrow your evil empire now?”

Jim ignored him and went directly for the mini-bar. He poured himself a double whiskey and drank it down straight. Wincing at the burn he coughed slightly as he said, “He’s dead. The bastards dead.”

“What?” Sebastian brushed sleep from his eye and stared blankly at Jim.

“My Father’s dead.”

“Shit.” Sebastian sat down on his sofa and Jim saw him actually start to focus on what was happening. “Who do I need to send the thank you flowers to?”

Jim smiled darkly and finally let himself relax. Yes, coming over to Sebastian’s place had been the right decision.

“I don’t know, can you send flowers to a living room table?” Sebastian looked confused. “He tripped over his own foot and went head first into it.” Jim explained.

Sebastian let out a bark of laughter and got up to pour himself a glass, refilling Jim’s as he did so. Raising his tumbler he offered a toast “To pointless, decorative, shit, living room tables everywhere. We now know what you’re good for. Never change!”

With an added aside of writing…a bit more than 200 words…
This is a sneak look at Chapter 6 of One Ring.

When Dean awoke that morning the first, and only thought he had was coffee.

He took one look at the hotel’s pitiful ‘brew your own instant Cappuccino’ machine on the side board and fled for the street. He knew that the English were famous for their obsession with Tea but at least <i>some</i> of them had to like coffee, surely?

To his surprise, Nottingham appeared to have at least one café on every other street corner. Steering away from the big brand chain stores he saw a small family run shop that seemed to offer exactly what he was wanting.

Like a zombie on a mission he headed towards the entrance. The queue wasn’t long and he kept himself occupied by reading the menu, that had been chalked on a giant board behind the shop assistants heads.

When he’d finally gotten his hands on a large steaming cup of caffeinated perfection he turned to find somewhere to sit; and froze. He knew he hadn’t been paying that much attention as he’d hurriedly joined the queue to talk to the people that would dispense to him, what was the equivalent of crack cocaine to an addict. But surely he couldn’t have been so wrapped up in his need for caffeine, that he’d miss a gods-damned <i>naked Fairy</i> sitting by the window.

Surely?

She was alone and the ethereal dragonfly wings that were poking out of her back kept disappearing through the brick wall whenever she absentmindedly beat them. She was sipping a cup of tea and her creamy nutmeg skin appeared to glisten with the ghosts of the scales Dean knew her race had once possessed. Her hair, an intense black, almost luminesced under the café’s warm mood lights.

How the hell could he have walked past a fucking Fairy?

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Sophie J Clark

I'm the author of Getting Out: Escape is harder than he’d ever imagined and QP-id: Love, Sex and Nano-Machines. I'm currently in the process of writing my third book. All works can be found on Amazon under the name Sophie J Clark.

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