Saturday, January 27, 2007

still with metaphorical scissors in hand

Sunset yesterday.
Cut from the novel 5:
Isabel had never been the kind of woman who screamed, but she could feel one building, and she fought to hold on to it. Someone’s hand, someone’s body. She forced herself to stand up and go to the door. Later, she thought she should have left, just closed the door and gone back downstairs, saying nothing. Her hands were trembling but she didn’t want to touch the walls for support. She cleared her throat, looking out into the dark corridor, and called for Jason as loud as she could without letting the scream out of her throat.
That Isabel: what a drama queen. She'd be mad if she knew I was cutting her big scene short.

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