8/11/15 In The Mirror

Theo’s skin was too thin. He’d suspected that for years. His veins ran visibly blue down his arms. Down his legs. He could even see one pulsing near his temple. His scarred cheek was finally healed. The left one. The other had also been disfigured, but that had been–what–a year ago? Something like that.

In the mirror of the bathroom of his London hotel room the counters were a glossy, white granite, the floor cold tiles, and the smell a sad lemon cleaning product that he hadn’t expected from such a reputable establishment. Never mind he couldn’t remember the name of it.

He ran the fingers of his left hand down that bare, rough cheek. The stubble there grew half heartedly. He reasoned he had cut out the roots unintentionally.

A chime came from his smartphone. He left the bathroom, the bathrobe wrapped tightly. His pants (khaki slacks) and shirt a (salmon) button down were laid out next to his flat, navy suit jacket and darker tie. Frankie had said this was the kind of thing people wear to lectures. Theo remembered his professors in college never wearing anything as strangely fashionable. Instead they had plaid short sleeves with breast pockets full of pens. One wore a stained and rather tattered, and Theo suspected, stinky sweatshirt. But once the outfit Frankie had laid out for him the night before was on, Theo agreed with the mirror that he had never looked so comfortable, with clothes on or not, in his life.

7/27/15 In The Darkness

In the darkness nothing happened. Nothing changed. But suddenly the vial flared with light. The rays, white and as fast as shooting stars nearly blinded Susie, but suddenly she could see through the water like the clearest crystal.

She was in the middle of the pond and she realized now that she would sink to the very bottom. And her lungs had surpassed burning and she began to jerk as a great pain thrust inside her chest. Again it happened. A great pain there, as though she must vomit. But she kept her lips tightly closed and did not let her body succumb.

7/15/15 Second Person

Dear Bruce,

I think something has happened in my perception of writing second person. I have been working through some of the intermission and suddenly realized I needed to take out anything that told the YOU how they felt about anything. It is all description and action. It is all experience, but very little internal feelings–since the reader already is filling those in.

I’ve been reading a little about writing second person also–have you found that this is an effective technique?