Every day I will write the very beginning of a story, a paragraph or a whole page, without worrying about where it might lead. "Nulla dies sine linea," I hope!
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
365
Tyra had left their group ages ago, so long that they had just about stopped wondering what had happened to her. The relief of her being gone had been enough for them to discuss for days, but days to weeks to however long it had been meant the stories about her had run their courses. Once in a while, Jen might snipe at Baxter, or, perhaps, Ross would put on a superior air, and the others would call a "Tyra" to diffuse the situation. Nobody wanted to be a Tyra. Though she had been tiring, annoying, and even dangerous, they still felt a sense of guilt when they found her body lodged under a cement pipe outside a crumbling, half-completed construction.
Labels:
character,
death,
fantasy,
guilt,
post-apocalyptic,
science fiction,
urban
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