Yesterday, I wrote practically all day, taking time out only for a trip to the dentist. But, that was okay because I had inhaled laughing gas and was feeling fine. Here’s an excerpt of yesterday’s efforts from my work-in-progress, Murder By Moonlight:
A line of low, purple clouds lay along the horizon in the direction of the river. Fog! Moisture-laden air plus the sunshine was resulting in another weather change. That bank of clouds was moving my way.
“We’ll probably have to cut our walk short,” I said, as I quickened my pace. I’d just walk a couple of blocks, then go back home.
The fog caught up with us by the time we reached Main Street. Thick and damp, it settled down through the trees, blurring familiar landmarks and changing the trees and bushes into alien beings.
Ulysses heard something. He stopped, turned around and looked behind us. I stopped too, but couldn’t see more than ten or twelve feet. Was the fog making him nervous?
We started walking again and this time, I heard it too. Footsteps! Someone was walking behind us. Squinting, I tried to see through the murky dampness. Were we being followed?
“Hello,” I called. “Is anyone there?”
Silence was my only answer.
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