Hey there!
Hate to do this to you, but my laptop won't boot at all. The battery has been on its last leg for a while now and today it finally gave up. I cant really complain as it has nine and a half years on it, but one more day or two weeks prior would have worked best for counting today.
Counting is not well done from a phone, even a smart one. :( Rest assured that we will count up those words for you tomorrow from work.
But in the interim I have a FLASH CHALLENGE for you! Get it done add it to your count before 8AM EST tomorrow and we'll count it as extra September!
EXTRA SEPTEMBER FLASH CHALLENGE!
The flowers died on Monday.
For every 100 word or single graphic I will commit to a hundred words on a WIP. It isn't really a reward, but it'll get words made!!
Go forth and word!!!
Hate to do this to you, but my laptop won't boot at all. The battery has been on its last leg for a while now and today it finally gave up. I cant really complain as it has nine and a half years on it, but one more day or two weeks prior would have worked best for counting today.
Counting is not well done from a phone, even a smart one. :( Rest assured that we will count up those words for you tomorrow from work.
But in the interim I have a FLASH CHALLENGE for you! Get it done add it to your count before 8AM EST tomorrow and we'll count it as extra September!
The flowers died on Monday.
For every 100 word or single graphic I will commit to a hundred words on a WIP. It isn't really a reward, but it'll get words made!!
Go forth and word!!!
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1_million_words- One Million Words
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Here are 230 words for you. Prepping for my next fic.
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He picked up the vase and moved it from the counter to the trash can. With a frown, James turned it upside down and watched the withered petals and stems fall heavily into the trash. The flowers had died on Monday and today was what? Saturday? Yeah, he was pretty sure it was Saturday. Being undercover always messed with his head.
Although he’d known the cowboy had been screwing with him when he’d brought the flowers, somehow James hadn’t been able to part with them, even after they’d died and gone to carnation heaven. It’d been a fluke that Reyes had even found him that night and that he’d come back again and again said… what? He wasn’t sure.
Looking into the trash can, he saw the pink and purple petals of the decayed flora and sighed. He had to finish this case and soon. More than ever, he had a home and a family and he wanted – needed – to be home with them. Even if his new family was as inherently screwed up as the one he was born into, they at least believed in him and his ability to do what needed to be done.
Sighing, he looked at his watch. It was almost time to go back to work. Soon, he’d be home soon. All he had to do was catch this son of a bitch first.
Edited at 2017-10-02 12:53 am (UTC)
I will get on your words as soon as the new battery arrives!
Hooray for a new battery!
rated g...the character of Major Carver from The Guest and an original character...
http://archiveofourown.org/works/10527315/chapters/27809169
I will get going on my words as soon as the new battery arrives!
Again, he’d sent them to work, which embarrassed her. The receptionist always had a smirk when she brought them back, like she knew details of the hook-up that precipitated the delivery. Like she’d known that one of them had gained a new ex and sought out the other for validation and comfort. Like she knew how bad their divorce had been and was mocking the recurring lapse in judgement.
The card was always as non-committal as the flowers. “You have always looked stunning in red.” Nothing asking for a future, nothing acknowledging that getting together had been a mistake. Just enough feel a bit used and foolish.
The arrangement sat on the office credenza. She couldn’t bring them home. The recriminations were bad enough where she had other things to think about. At home, alone, with a bottle of wine… she might be inclined toward larger gaffes.
She went home, cleaned, exercised, kept the wine corked, and made a list of all the things that had driven her crazy during their six years of wedded hell. She called friends, she scheduled lunches, she made meal plans and budgets. She booked a trip to see her parents and another trip in the opposite direction. She debated dating websites and she made great plans.
The flowers died on Monday.
As she threw the drooped husks away she hoped her resolve to not take his call next time would last.