33,569 words. 21,696 of them new. The goal for November 13: 21,666. I know technically it’s November 14, but I’m going to bed now and have a full day ahead of me in which I only need to write the nominal 1,666 words, so I am officially caught up at this point. And as the graph shows, finally the rising tide of words completed has caught up with the solid line of words desired. Yaay!
Here’s a bit to tide you over: rough drafty stuff, as all Nano is, but it’s getting the scene set down the way I want it:
Jeremiah stepped out into the street, taking in the smells and sounds of Boston: cold air, wafting soup, crackling leather, fragrant horses, whirring gears, walking feet. God, she loved this town.
“Here you are, Commander,” a young girl said, walking her cycle up.
“Thank you, dear,” Jeremiah said, pulling the boy’s two shillings out and adding a third for the girl. “Apportion it fairly among you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” she said—then gasped. “Oh my goodness!”
And Jeremiah followed her gaze to see the Prince Edward shimmering into existence above them, a rope ladder tumbling down towards her. “All right!” she said, leaping up onto a horse-tie, then into the air to catch the ladder.
Her weight brought it down, just slightly—taking tension in the rope, of course, not lowering the Prince Edward—and as she swung back she reached down towards the girl. “Heave it here!”
“Are you all right, Ma’am?” she cried, even as she raised the cycle.
“Never better!” she said, seizing the cycle with her free hand. Predictably the Edward didn’t wait, and in moments she was rising above the street, holding on to the ladder with one hand and the bike with the other, trusting the boomsman to keep her clear of the buildings as she ascended into one of those singular adventures that enlivened her life.
Off to bed.
-the Centaur
