(For those not familiar with NaNoWriMo, it’s the National Novel Writing Month – in brief, slap 50,000+ words onto the screen as a “zeroth” draft of a novel. It’s not pretty, it’s not even a first draft, it’s simply an exercise in “Just – Keep – Putting – Words – TOGETHER!” and seeing what comes out the other side. I’ve done it five times and “succeeded” twice. I’ve decided to be incredibly self centered and foolish open about my process so I’ve put my work up here on this site for the last three attempts. Just do a search to see some of the crap I’ve inflicted on my loyal readers in the past. Actually, that might not be totally true – while being “zeroth” drafts, at least three of them had stories and characters that I actually thought were pretty good if I ever managed to get past the NaNoWriMo stage, finish them, and then start editing.)
Wow! Day Eight already. Wait, what happened to Days Five, Six, and Seven?
In short, “life.” If you remember the diagram that I shared on October 31st, I didn’t have time to do NaNoWriMo this year, and I knew it, but I started anyway, because HAVE YOU MET ME? There are other commitments and conflicting priorities and NaNoWriMo is somewhere above raking leaves or crushing recycling cans, but well below hitting critical work deadlines. Let’s keep it real here.
So after three days of lots of stress and very little sleep, deadlines have been hit, there are a couple of hours before the next crisis hits, so here’s about 400 words. It’s not going to get me back on track or even keep me from falling further behind today, but it sure beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick!
All comments will be welcome.
ANY BAD SITUATION CAN BE MADE WORSE
CHAPTER FOUR
Mint. Something smelled like mint. Not a lot of scent, not overpowering, but with that omnipresent presence that told you that it was 100% artificial and chemical and desperately trying to mask some other smell that was truly horrible. And Deb hated the smell of mint to begin with.
A second and third brain cell finally activated and joined the party, causing Deb to realize that if she could smell mint, she must be alive and might possibly be conscious. The good news was that there wasn’t any pain or even discomfort. The bad news was that the mint was 100% of the sensory input. Nothing to see, feel, or hear.
How about moving? Attempts to move her arms and legs were inconclusive. She tried to touch her face, but there was no feedback from her face telling her that anything had touched it, so something wasn’t working. She didn’t seem to go anywhere or hit anything. She just was.
After an indeterminate amount of time when she might have been asleep again, or maybe unconscious, the mint scent came back into focus and she had another sensation, this time more familiar. She didn’t know how long she had been gone or here, whatever or wherever “here” might be, but she really had to pee.
Decades of training said that she couldn’t do that without the proper facilities, and hopefully some toilet paper. The big, minty, dark didn’t seem to have either.
What was it that that astronaut dude had said in his TED Talk? “No problem is so bad that you can’t make it worse”? She had a problem and it was time to make it worse. She prepared to release her bladder.
“Please do not expel bodily fluids.”
That voice was familiar. The command forced her to belay that last order to the bladder. The surprise forced out a squirt of adrenaline. Suddenly memories and questions started popping up like mushrooms.
The hammock, the pool. The freakin’ little leprechaun! The army of freakin’ little leprechauns! Who was it to tell her not to pee? What was its name?
“Brian? Buddah? Bowser? Hey you, the shrimp with the weird name that starts with a ‘B’! Where am I and let me out of here! I gotta get to a bathroom, double time!”
“I am Bubba. I am here. We are creating a urinal for you, please stand by for one minute.”
Deb noticed at some point that there was light. It wasn’t like someone turned one on, but one second it was still totally dark and the next it was just almost totally dark. Then a little less totally dark. Within a minute or two she was in a ball of light.
Dim, green light. Mint green light.