Jihad: Excerpt
November 9th 2008 10:40
As the story is completely different and for a number of reasons I had to restart, I am also using Jihad as part of my Nano projects, so I'm inspired to finish it. This is part of the Prologue. Have fun reading! Comments would be much appreciated, as this is the story I care the most about at this point-I want to write it well this time around so there's less work on it later. It's been in the works for far too long already.
Here goes:
----------------------------- ----------------------------- -----------
It was misting the day of the crash. The sort of rain where it isn't really raining, but you still get
soaked through, and an umbrella simply won't do you any good. I always hated that type of weather, to
the point of considering it a bad omen. And that day, Naomi's reading for me a month before was in my
mind. I went to school, and went through the day as though nothing was wrong, though I knew that she
could tell there was something on my mind. Naomi just knew me like that. We had become friends the
year before, just shortly after I moved; she was my first real friend in this place.
She didn't ask me any questions though, and I was pretty sure she knew it was the weather that
was bothering me. We walked together after school as we did every day, talking about the day's events,
which had not been that unusual nor that entertaining. We knew every details of each others' lives,
including the fact that interesting things rarely happened to either of us.
I suppose that was part of it, too. I was bored. My life before had been interesting, but since I
had moved it had become dull. For a long time I had been struggling with depression, and I had finally
won out, but I had never gotten my motivation back up to join any sports teams. I had a hard enough
time just getting through school now, as it was a constant struggle to keep myself out of the spiraling
tunnel I had come to know very well.
We hugged and she went home, and then I started to walk to my house. I was lost in thought,
bored of my life, and barely able to see because of the fog-which was what misting really was, in the
end, but I liked my term for it better. I was busy wondering what life would be like in twenty or thirty
years, if it would still be boring. And I realized it would probably be more so as I started to cross the
road.
Here goes:
----------------------------- ----------------------------- -----------
It was misting the day of the crash. The sort of rain where it isn't really raining, but you still get
soaked through, and an umbrella simply won't do you any good. I always hated that type of weather, to
the point of considering it a bad omen. And that day, Naomi's reading for me a month before was in my
mind. I went to school, and went through the day as though nothing was wrong, though I knew that she
could tell there was something on my mind. Naomi just knew me like that. We had become friends the
year before, just shortly after I moved; she was my first real friend in this place.
She didn't ask me any questions though, and I was pretty sure she knew it was the weather that
was bothering me. We walked together after school as we did every day, talking about the day's events,
which had not been that unusual nor that entertaining. We knew every details of each others' lives,
including the fact that interesting things rarely happened to either of us.
I suppose that was part of it, too. I was bored. My life before had been interesting, but since I
had moved it had become dull. For a long time I had been struggling with depression, and I had finally
won out, but I had never gotten my motivation back up to join any sports teams. I had a hard enough
time just getting through school now, as it was a constant struggle to keep myself out of the spiraling
tunnel I had come to know very well.
We hugged and she went home, and then I started to walk to my house. I was lost in thought,
bored of my life, and barely able to see because of the fog-which was what misting really was, in the
end, but I liked my term for it better. I was busy wondering what life would be like in twenty or thirty
years, if it would still be boring. And I realized it would probably be more so as I started to cross the
road.
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