Inside
Welcome to Fiction Friday. Each Friday, I’m sharing with y’all a glimpse into the mind of Zach the Zombie and some of his friends. Here’s Zach, just as he’s gotten into the City.
You know the drill–this is very minimally edited. I continue to appreciate grace and forgiveness for errors!
The sun feels brighter here.
The leaves of the trees smell crisp and green.
What does green smell like anyway? Not sure, but these leaves smell green. Seriously.
Anyway…breaking a habit is hard, but I’m determined. As I creep through the city, I learn to be quiet. I practice. I catch myself making the little sounds we all make all the time. Sounds that say “we don’t really care anymore.” The sound of perpetual loss.
But now, here, I don’t think about what we’ve lost. I’m focused.
The first thing I need to do is find some clothes. The people here, they dress differently. They’re clean. They wear white. I’m not going to pass for long. If at all.
I stop, mid-moan.
I clearly don’t belong here. I’m screwed here if I don’t make some big changes, really quickly.
I tuck into the narrow crack between a cafe and a shop. I think.
Water. I need to find water to clean up. and fresh clothes.
I slip deeper between the buildings until the crack opens into an alley behind the cafe. I keep to the shadows as it winds upward. Near the top of the hill, I reach a tall, tan building with a ladder up the back wall.
I squint as I step onto the flat roof. From here, the city sprawls out as far as I can see. Tidy houses and shops line winding streets. Patches of green every few blocks. Orderly. Clean.
Nothing like the villages Outside.
I scan for sparkle, for blue. I hope.
Block after block, district after district. Bright colored flags indicate different neighborhoods.
Then I see it. A wide, dark line winding through the city to my right. Between the thick trees, I catch glimpses. A flash here, a sparkle there.
The river.
It looks to be about 20 blocks. The maze of streets should provide enough cover, but it will be slow, especially if I have to keep to the alleys.
I pause, burning the map into my memory, noticing every detail of every block.
Does Zach make it to the river? Leave a comment…
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About Christine
I am a writer, a project manager, and a corporate refugee with a heart for orphans around the world. My two daughters were adopted from Ukraine at ages 12 and 14. I post about writing, chasing dreams, and making a difference in the world, and sometimes I share fun snippets of fiction in-progress.
I would HOPE that Zach will make it to the river, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? I love how you incorporated a ‘river’ into your ‘thoughts’. Very clever, girl!
Subconsciously clever! Not intended…but nice pickup!
i’m sure he’ll make it. but how he makes it and what obstacles pop up will be fun to read, i’ve no doubt!
Guess we’ll just have to see!
He must make it, because when he meets the girl he’s worried about his arm betraying his disease, but not about looking dirty.
I love the idea of him having to remind himself not to make little sounds – ‘the sound of perpetual loss’ brilliant line, brilliant thought. It’s things like this that make me love your creativity and your writing. Keep it up!!
NICE attention to detail! I was kind of thinking the girl might help him get there, but you’re right. He has to get there and clean up first….Hmm….
And thank you for the detailed encouragement…means more than you can know!
Yeah, was thinking of adding an apology for hyper attention to detail! Zach gives us so little each week that I have to suck it dry! 😉
Oh…No apologies…I truly appreciate it! When I start compiling the novel, will you edit for continuity? Pretty please?
I’d LOVE to! I thought you’d never ask 😉 Seriously, yes, I’d be really honoured to.