Word count: 33428 | Since last entry: 493
Only Jay and myself at the coffee shop tonight, and we only overlapped for about an hour. I stayed for another half-hour after he left, but didn’t quite make 500 words for the night.
Sometimes I wonder if I am just throwing in incidents to take up space. This chapter was exceedingly thin in the outline. But each thing follows naturally from what preceded. I really need to be building up Rachel’s backstory and inner life more, though.
“You have to go slow,” Rachel said. “I’m not familiar with this place.” She held the child’s expressionless eyes with her own as the alien translated, willing her to understand. Surely some glimmer of comprehension must come eventually — she must remember at least a little of her own people’s language? But the girl only repeated her gesture. “Please, child. At least tell me your name.”
The girl watched the alien as it translated. Then she turned her eyes to Rachel, and spoke directly to her. “Keelie,” she said. Though the name was strange, it was the most human sound Rachel had heard from the girl, and she took some hope from that.
“Keelie,” Rachel repeated.
The girl gave a downward jerk of her chin, then waved Rachel forward again. Rachel picked up her bag and walked toward her. Daniel in the lions’ den, she reminded herself as the slugs slithered away from her feet.
After I got home from that, Kate and I watched Monday’s episode of Drive, which our VCR failed to tape, on my Mac via MySpace. Truly it is the future.
By the way… Does anyone know where the original phrase “ink-stained wretch” came from? A quick Google suggests that it is a known phrase but doesn’t hint at its origin.