Happy Wednesday! Well, NaNoWriMo is over for this year, and I have that post-noveling hazy feeling as though I’ve just turned myself inside out. I honestly can’t even look at my novel yet. I’m not sure I want to deal with the gloopy mess. I know I need to, but I’m giving myself a break first. Hopefully I can pull myself together and start hacking away at it in a week or two.
In the meantime, I’m editing a short work for submission to an anthology. I’ve tentatively named this one Private Dance. As soon as I’m done, I’ll put it in the hands of my capable betas. For now, I’ll share a little of it for this week’s WIPpet and probably next week’s as well. Guess who’s back (though briefly)? I’ve missed these guys. In fact, besides the snippet for today, you can check out my blog post from Monday—a bit of flash fiction featuring whining, soup, mentholated chest rub, and my two favorite guys ever.
Very simple WIPmath: 12 + 3 = 15 paragraphs.
Phin tossed the last few items in his bag and closed it. “There.” He turned to Alex. “C’mere, babe,” he said.
Alex didn’t move. He stood next to the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Phin shot him a puzzled look and stepped away from the bed to stand in front of Alex. When he reached out, Alex flinched and pulled away.
With a heavy sigh, Phin asked, “What is it?”
“I’m sick of this shit,” Alex spat at him.
“What?”
“You. Leaving all the time.” Alex clenched his jaw.
Phin gave a humorless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is my job.”
“Yeah, it is, but I know you could take shorter assignments, work from here, or find places closer to home.”
“You know I’m trying to get to a point where I don’t have to be gone so much, but I’m not there yet.” He stepped closer and rested his hand on Alex’s chest.
Alex shoved his hand away. “You could’ve said no, and you didn’t need to go to the conference—you wanted to.”
“It’s only three weeks. I’ll be home before you know it.” Phin tried again, running his hand down Alex’s arm. “Come on. We have time before I go. Let’s just—”
“No! I’m not playing the game where you try to appease me with sex. You don’t give a damn how I feel.” He knew he was baiting Phin, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You walk out that door, and you might as well not bother coming back.”
There was a long, terrible pause, during which Phin’s mouth fell open and he stared, unblinking, at Alex. “Oh, my god. You’re serious.”
In response, Alex offered nothing but silence. Phin turned away and grabbed his bag. He stalked out of the room into the hallway. For a moment, he looked like he might walk away without another word, but at the last minute, he glanced back. “I hope you change your mind,” he said quietly before dashing down the stairs and out the door, slamming it behind him.
Alex wanted to chase him to his car and beg him to wait so they could work it out. He wanted to explain, but he couldn’t put into words the real reason he was so devastated. So he didn’t; he stayed in the bedroom and listened for the sound of the car pulling away.
Oh, dear. Hope I didn’t make you all too sad. I’ll try to remedy that next week.
If you enjoyed this, think how much more you’ll love it if you check out the other entries from my fine colleagues. You can even add your own by posting a bit of your work-in-progress, connecting it to the date, and linking up with us. Many thanks to K. L. Schwengel for her work as the Fairy WIPpet Godmother. Happy writing!