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Snippet from WIP
This is from my YA novel tentatively titled THE SLIP.

It's a very short section from the beginning:

Three weeks after the trial ends, I wake up to a noise below my window.  Like almost every other time I’ve been awakened since the disappearance of my mother and sister, there is an instant where they are not gone, and I am a normal boy, and my life has not taken a turn for the worse.  It’s like waking up in a cocoon; first you’re just awake, insulated by the silk around you.  Thing is, the silk is just imaginary, and as your eyes adjust, it vanishes.  That’s when the world knocks you right in the mouth.  

Fully awake, I slide out of bed and over to my window.  There’s a wind blowing across the cotton fields and the big oak tree in front yard throws shadows across the yard.  Leaning forward a little more, I see Harold Pike dragging his oxygen tank up our front steps, his long, stringy hair flying wild in the wind, a burning cigarette clutched tightly between his knuckles.  He climbs the last step and puts his tank down near the door.  Shaking the hair from his face, he pulls the apparatus from his nose and the cigarette glows hot orange as he takes a hit off it before dropping it on our porch and grinding it out underfoot.  

Three loud knocks followed by a silence that makes me feel uncomfortable, edgy.  Far away, somewhere near town, maybe, I can hear a big rig shift gears.  Closer to home, the cicadas murmur.  Then, the sound of Dad’s bare feet across the hardwood.



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