A journal sent back one of my manuscripts (not the one that wouldn't die) with only minor revisions. Woohoo! Time to celebrate!
Also, last night I dreamed that I was best friend to and songwriter for Lady Gaga. I think that bodes for an excellent day. Especially because right before I went to sleep I my right ear was itchy so I tried to convince Hot Tottie that there was a colony of spiders living in there.
Then I realized it was time for my meds.
The Stone Woman, pt. 9
By Lab Rockstar
Seeing that Mr. Scofield would leave her no choice, she sat down at the table, but left her bowl empty even as the Scofields served themselves. The elderly couple ate their stew and waited.
“I want to believe,” Gail said finally. “I want to believe there’s somewhere we all go.” Her eyes began to water. “But I don’t.” She sighed and looked down at the yellow placemat.
“Of course,” Mr. Scofield said.
“I think we just die, like plants,” Gail sighed, “I don’t know what else to think.” Mr. Scofield sighed too and let his spoon rest on the edge of his bowl.
“I’m sorry, Gail,” he said.
“Me too,” Gail replied. Mrs. Scofield took a mouthful of her stew and chewed thoughtfully. Mr. Scofield sliced a biscuit in half and rubbed butter into its steaming, exposed interior. Putting one half on his own plate, he set the other on the small plate next to Gail’s bowl. He eyed her deliberately and took a bite of his biscuit. He chewed thoughtfully for several minutes.
“At times like this, I like to think about how unknown the world of other creatures is to us.” he said.
“Where is this going?” Mrs. Scofield asked, wrinkling her brow.
“Like Rattlesnakes. They hunt by detecting the body heat of their prey with these two little sensors on their snout. But it’s not like we feel heat with our hands; the snakes actually see the heat. Not in colors, the way our equipment can, but they see heat in a way we can’t even imagine. Can you even imagine what heat looks like to a snake?” He paused, letting that sink in, then continued, “Imagine how your perception of the world would be different if you were a snake, or a bee, or a plant.” He paused and took a drink from his cup. “It wouldn’t just look different, it would be entirely different. Can you believe that?”
Gail shifted in her chair. “I suppose so.” she said softly. She turned it all over in her mind several times. The stone was making it hard to think properly. She felt very cold even though she was in front of the woodstove.
“For Heaven’s sake, Gail,” Mr. Scofield exhaled suddenly. “Don’t just sit there—eat your dinner.”
Gail looked at the biscuit on her plate. It was probably wasn’t warm anymore, and the exposed insides looked wet and doughy. I don’t need to eat, Gail’s brain screamed. I’m stone! Gail opened her mouth to say it aloud, but the words were foolish, she realized. How could a stone-woman explain herself?
It will make you want to be sick, the stone-voice in Gail’s head insisted. It will taste like sawdust. Gail believed that voice, but Mr. Scofield’s pale eyes were fixed on her. Can you not see I am stone? Gail wanted to plead with him, but instead she remained silent, staring into her empty bowl. She looked up at the Scofields’ kindly, weathered faces. She cleared her throat.
Stay tuned tomorrow for the conclusion!