Flies, the Time

...I mean, I've done stuff. I've been writing, just not here. Clearly.

But that's not the point.

It's NaNoWriMo, and I'm in it to win it. Because time is getting shorter. Because I don't know what else to do that will best use my time and talents to tell truth. Because when I look at my kids, I want them to have this story, at least so they can know more about me.

And because I've waited long enough. I wasn't going to do NaNoWriMo this year. I was afraid to start. But November 1st, I revisited three chapters I'd begun two years ago, and said "now's the time". So it is.

So these won't be much, because I have to write story. Here's the count, because it's a game too:

As of this writing:

10,267/50,000

That's with a considerable head-start at the beginning, mind you.

Here's an excerpt:

“How long have we kept you, waiting until just the right time?  Until you showed us the way.  And even now, as I know what I must do, I fear.  But that is normal, isn’t it?  While I have faith in our mission, I fear the tumult that this means for us…and the whole universe.”

“Are you speaking to me, sir?” The voice came from the cylinder on the table in front of Elder Flynn.  A small circular speaker was mounted in the lower part of its chassis, under the open indentation, and what appeared to be a single “eye” was built on the upper portion.  It moved to look at Elder Flynn. The iris opened slightly as the eye focussed on the old patriarch, adjusting to the light. The robot had no visible limbs of any kind. The whole of its body was colored a faint metallic blue. The only other external feature were four teardrop shaped bumps evenly spaced around the circumference of the robot’s body below the speaker, just above the lower  inverted dome.

“No, my friend.  I was talking to your charge.”  On saying that, Elder Flynn dropped the small object into the indentation.  “It is now your responsibility to take The Link where it leads you.”

“I understand, sir,’ said the cylindrical robot.  “Gulp!”  The upper and lower halves clanged shut over the nested container, closing the object inside.  

Elder Flynn patted the curved dome above the robot’s eye.  “Good boy,” he said.

Press on...
-Nas