We're starting (another) new tradition here in Atlanta. Every year, we are going to work a peach into our novel. Now, this year we want just a normal, regular old peach. Who knows what kind of peach will be next year's dare? Could be a plastic peach, a peach tree, a miscolored peach, etc. But this year it's a regular, normal, run of the mill peach.
So this year, we have a dare for you. Work in a peach...somewhere in your NaNo, and join your NaNoLanta brothers and sisters in our peachiness.
And when you've worked it in, please post the excerpt on this thread, so everyone else can revel in your peach-ness and applaud you for taking up the dare!
----------
Back for year #6, and MLing for the first time. Go NaNoLanta!
Co-Moderator of LitFic Genre Board
This year's Novel: "Just A Normal Thanksgiving."
Goal: 135k (9 chapters, 15k a pop)
Genre: LitFic
POV: Rotating First Person Stream of Consciousness
4,309 / 50,000
Okt 27, 2009 - 18 13
okay, that could be fun!
----------"That's the difference between me and the rest of the world! Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria!" - Calvin, from Calvin and Hobbes
50,259 / 50,000
Okt 28, 2009 - 10 46
It is now a sacred fruit in my story. XD There will be lots of peaches!
----------2009 NaNoWriMo: Good Luck Priestess
Writing Journal: http://utensil-drawer.livejournal.com/profile
A fine is a tax for doing wrong, a tax is a fine for doing well.
40,365 / 50,000
Okt 28, 2009 - 14 05
So, if I have a character nicknamed Peaches or have a character who often says Peachy Keen!, have I satisfied the dare?
----------Joyce S
"... writing a book goes through five phases. In phase one, it is a novelty or a toy." -- Sir Winston Churchill
2006 Eistedvods (winner)
2007 Flying Grounded (winner)
2008 Affair at Cricket Creek (loser)
1,096 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 06 53
No, I think it actually has to be a physical peach. I think I just found my murder weapon!
----------The Trace-Meister Cometh
134,699 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 06 54
Yup, Joyce, let's aim for an actual peach.
----------Back for year #6, and MLing for the first time. Go NaNoLanta!
Co-Moderator of LitFic Genre Board
This year's Novel: "Just A Normal Thanksgiving."
Goal: 135k (9 chapters, 15k a pop)
Genre: LitFic
POV: Rotating First Person Stream of Consciousness
2,036 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 07 08
I accept the dare, and will include a physical peach in my novel. I am a first-time NaNoWriMo author, so I am very excited about what will begin in the next couple of days!
Here's to great writing ...
10,306 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 10 36
I accept the dare ... i see peaches in a basket being sold by a truck farmer...
40,365 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 15 01
Okay. I'll go for a nice, juicy, ripe peach. Although on second though a hard-as-a-rock unripe peach might be useful. Hmmm.
*wanders off thinking of the possibilities*
----------Joyce S
"... writing a book goes through five phases. In phase one, it is a novelty or a toy." -- Sir Winston Churchill
2006 Eistedvods (winner)
2007 Flying Grounded (winner)
2008 Affair at Cricket Creek (loser)
781 / 50,000
Okt 30, 2009 - 15 35
I saw a beautiful peach rhinestone peach pin today at Le Jardin Blanc in Douglasville! What a bargain at $47.50! Only one left, but hurry, the rhinestone cowboy is riding into town any minute!
----------Charlottefairchild@gmail.com
http://www.fearthounot4.blogspot.com
55,558 / 50,000
Okt 31, 2009 - 21 51
Me too! Poisoned Peaches! *giggles insanely* ----------
'8: Interface Culture - Selbst die Zukunft ist nicht mehr das was sie einmal war (won!)
'9: Ytin'he'ny - those who are changed
Bottles of Coke: 18 (29.5 liters)
Bags of crisps: 7 (705g)
Back up your novel, now!
50,268 / 50,000
Okt 31, 2009 - 22 48
Here's an excerpt from my novel, Dogwood Dolls.
==================
“If I may, your honor?” Ron interjected. “I incurred injuries of my own, which my wife neglected to mention. I do not deny I was drunk, and my judgment was… compromised. In the middle of my drunken stupor I was struck with a cast iron skillet. And then a… a bag of peaches.”
Judge Hathaway raised an eyebrow quizzically.
At the back Ty giggled. And in spite of himself, Jerome had to stifle a chuckle as well. He covered both their mouths.
“A very large... bag of peaches.”
==================
134,699 / 50,000
Okt 31, 2009 - 22 57
Here's mine:
“Good morning class. Go ahead and sit down in your seats and get pull out your vocab sheet and start memorizing.” They never study at home for these things. They have all the time in the world at their home stays to study for these things.
----------“Teacher! Teacher!”
“I don’t know who you are talking to.” We have to break them of this teacher teacher thing.
“Fine. Mr. Tim!”
“Yes Ivrene?”
“I brought you something!” What? Usually the kids just want to call other kids names, or talk about what a horribly mean teacher I am for assigning them homework. Ivrene sure is fishing around in her bag for a while and she’s pulling out a-
“Here! It’s a peach!”
I guess this is instead of an apple? I hate peaches!
“Thanks Ivrene.”
“Eat it!”
“I’ll eat it during lunch. Now, go ahead and keep studying.
Thanks for the random peach Ivrene. I mean, I guess I can appreciate the thought, but I am so sick of peaches I could scream. I never liked them growing up, I was so much more of a pear person. But down here…peaches are everywhere. It’s part of Atlanta culture to love peaches. I mean, what’s so special about it, looking at it, it’s well, peachy colored I guess. I think there’s cynaide in the pitt. A lot of folk I know here in Atlanta, especially the true Southerners, can be like that - nice and pretty on the outside, soft, but on the inside hard, bitter, and lethal. Maybe its a whole metaphor about the South in general. We try to portray that southern hospitality, but we’re all really just bitter on the inside. Or maybe I’m thinking too much about it, and she bought it so I wouldn’t give as much homework tonight.
Back for year #6, and MLing for the first time. Go NaNoLanta!
Co-Moderator of LitFic Genre Board
This year's Novel: "Just A Normal Thanksgiving."
Goal: 135k (9 chapters, 15k a pop)
Genre: LitFic
POV: Rotating First Person Stream of Consciousness
43,157 / 50,000
Okt 31, 2009 - 23 28
Im sure I could squeeze peaches in somehow..hmm...
----------“My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work,
give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate
analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense
then with artificial stimulants." -SotF
88,251 / 50,000
Okt 31, 2009 - 23 33
I think one of my character's just started liking peaches a lot... ( except one of the main characters hates them now. daw... :[ ) Character introduction! Yay!
----------http://crimsonblaine.wordpress.com/
4,637 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 11 44
Chocking on the pit perhaps? Very nice. xD
Hmm, I can see how I'd get this in my story. A pomegranate would have worked better with the underworld, but this /is/ Atlanta.
----------106,253 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 12 31
Dare accepted. Here's the excerpt.
He poured himself a bowl of Cheerios, grabbed a peach, and sat down at the kitchen table. He fished a different knife out of the drawer before peeling the peach and sliced the peach. One cut, two cut, three cut, four, he thought to himself as he cut around the pit. He bit into the peach. Mmm, peachy goodness.
----------Mom entered the room. “Morning, Mom,” Derek said.
“Morning,” Mom replied. “What are you eating?”
“Cheerios and peaches,” Derek said, holding up his peach. “This is the last one, by the way.
“Well, they’re out of season anyway, so they’re going to be expensive,” Mom said, sifting through the cabinet for her oatmeal. “I’ll get some apples when we go to the store.” Mom turned to Derek. “What’s wrong?”
“My pumpkins,” Derek told her.
“What about them?”
“They’re gone.”
“Now you’re talking madness. Did you put them in the entrance like you always do?”
“Yes, I know I did. I did it before I went to bed last night.”
“Then they should still be there. Have you checked?”
“First thing this morning, but I told you, they’re gone. Look.” Derek got up, peach still in hand, and led his mother to the entrance. Sure enough, his pumpkins were still gone, not that he expected them to return magically. “They’re gone.”
“Well, that means someone must have broken into the house,” Mom said. “They can’t have just floated out of the house. The window would be broken.”
“Oh, I don’t think they broke out of the house,” Derek said. “I think someone took them.”
---
Witty signature feature broken. Please try again later.
http://www.sushimustwrite.com
55,558 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 14 22
Here is mine:
under natural circumstances.'' I explained. My boss, Mr. Barons, seemed to
be slighly uninterested in the entire situation. ``The hospital confirmed
that she died by a Neotoxin. Probably, judging the statements of her buttler
from a peach.''
Barons asked ``Why do we hear this only now?''
I made an annoyed sound. ``Because the hospital effed up their records. A
kind of virus ate through their records and they had to re-transcribe it.''
``Retranscribe? What do you mean?''
``They made the entries by hand first and only then entered them into their
computer. Because apparently viruses like this are not that seldom. It was
not the first and not the last case of attempting to hide a murder.''
'8: Interface Culture - Selbst die Zukunft ist nicht mehr das was sie einmal war (won!)
'9: Ytin'he'ny - those who are changed
Bottles of Coke: 18 (29.5 liters)
Bags of crisps: 7 (705g)
Back up your novel, now!
43,157 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 15 47
My excerpt:
It was fortunate for us, the Geolantians, that some of the elders remembered how to farm and harvest the land. Just as the ancient race, we learned to farm and harvest the fruits that they called peaches. The seed of the peach were easy to find and hardy to survive. The knowledge of preservation was founded once again by the elders as they worked hard to remember how their parents and grandparents had kept their foods fresh.
It was then that a cold cavern was set up and the foods were kept chilled and fresh in this way. In this cavern a cold spring was also found, and the society of Geolantians survived on peaches and cold water. Occasionally there would be a visitor from another society who would visit and a trade would be held. The visitor would bring new and exotic foods from their society there were things called potatoes, oranges, and wheat.
“My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work,
give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate
analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense
then with artificial stimulants." -SotF
50,086 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 16 59
Here's mine. Sorry it's so long, but I wanted to include the song, too. I'll probably end up putting music to the song at some point, too. I can't resist my ukulele for 30 whole days.
I am both proud and ashamed to admit that I even wrote a song inspired by her that has become quite popular in our district. It’s called “A Peach of a Speech.”
At ass o’clock on Saturdays
I put on my favorite suit
I watch the sun rise high
As my coach maps the route
And I sit on a bus for hours
While I think of my fav’rite fruit
Because speech is a peach
But peaches have pits
And I love to debate
But I mostly just sit
In the cafeteria
With my teammates
While I wait for my rounds
And to see if I break
Speech is a peach with a pit
On these early mornings
I walk through the halls
Of a school I don’t attend
And see people talk to walls
I think nothing of it
As I find an empty stall
And our parents just don’t get it
And our friends say we should quit
But where would we get peaches
If there were no seeds in the pits?
Because speech is a peach
But peaches have pits
And I love to orate
But I mostly just sit
In the cafeteria
With my teammates
While I wait for my rounds
And to see if I break
Speech is a peach with a pit
Oh, speech is a peach with a pit.
Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes.
2007: Roommates (Won!)
2008: Love on Location (Won!)
2009: Crushing the Competition (We'll See!)
50,086 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 17 06
Double post. I'm sorry! I got distracted by The Simpsons Cake Challenge on Food Network.
----------Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes.
2007: Roommates (Won!)
2008: Love on Location (Won!)
2009: Crushing the Competition (We'll See!)
16,466 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 19 55
Here's mine - she' s actually making a Georgia Peach Pound Cake that I've written the part where she decides to make it and the part where she starts preparing to bake it but not too much else.
Abiah rinsed six peaches and set them on paper towels on the counter to dry. She looked for the sharpest knife Justin had and then pitted and diced the peaches one at a time until the pieces measured two cups. Then she took a remaining cleaned peach, pitted it, and sliced it to eat while she cooked. The tender, sweet peach brought out the flavors in the glass of white wine from a bottle she found in Justin’s wine cooler. He collected wines like their uncle Smitty but she didn’t know much more about wine except that it was either red or white. She hoped it wasn’t something he minded her opening.
----------NaNoLanta: Writing on my Mind
(Like Georgia on my Mind, but not - get it?)
NaNoWriMo Journal - http://tinyurl.com/y932aya
205,176 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 20 35
Peaches have shown up in the crackfic twice so far:
The three of them looked at each other. "That sounds like the sort of thing she'd do, admittedly," Grim commented.
"Well, go ahead," Mandy said. "Have you got a wombat?"
Grim shrugged, then looked through his pockets. He pulled out a few loose bills, some business cards, a peach, a pie, a kitchen sink, a guy named Humphrey who began eating the peach, an elephant, a small galaxy, and John McCain before finally emerging with a wombat triumphantly. "Isn't that convenient?"
"PIE," Billy shouted immediately, jumping into the dessert and covering himself with fruit filling.
and a short time later:
"A crisis? What's the matter?"
"Oh, everything," she said with another sigh. "For one, my golden apple, my symbol of chaos itself and the root of my power...."
"Has it been stolen or something?" Grim asked anxiously.
"It's a peach."
Grim blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"A peach!" she shrieked into the phone. "How can I make public appearances without my golden apple? 'Here I am, goddess of chaos, with my golden fuzzy butt'. A peach isn't even an attractive fruit! It's a hideous color and the fuzz gets everywhere, and really, a crack? So I'm a little stressed out right now. And if that wasn't bad enough, I've broken a nail!"
Goal:
200k260k. My wordcount was going to be an average, but we need to beat the pants off Denver, right?Part of the evil triumvirate of Atlanta and Shoutouts moderator.
12,047 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 22 52
Macie always felt better when the shelves were full. She threw out the peach, which had developed squishy spots, although nothing showed on the fuzzy outer skin to indicate the peach was less than perfect. Replaced the peach with three fresh apples. She checked the other two peaches and sighed, deciding that next time she would order canned peaches instead. She looked at her shelf of canned goods and filled the empty spots with the recently arrived peas, corn, and carrots. Satisfied that all rows were full and all labels could easily be seen, she thought about what she needed to add to the list for next time.
Milk, she thought. A quart of regular milk, as usual, and maybe a quart of chocolate milk, for something different...
She paused as she considered the "something different." Macie felt most comfortable when everything was "just so" - ordered, routine, no surprises. It calmed her to put groceries on the shelves, in the fridge, to know that she had supplies enough to ensure not only survival, but to offer options as well. Options she controlled, choices she made.
Yes, she decided, chocolate milk would be good. Or apple cider. It always tastes so good in the fall.
She glanced over at the ground-level window, and could see the multi-colored leaves dancing and playing tag. Occasionally, a thrust of wind would push a curious bunch up against the window, peeking in at Macie, before dashing off again. Her face didn't smile, but something inside did. Smiled at the whimsical nature of the season, the way the wind toyed with the leaves on the ground. Leaves don't judge, they just are. She didn't mind them peeking in on her. She did mind the footsteps alarmingly close to the door. Gasping, her reverie broken, she darted into the showdowed space beside her computer desk.
----------10,306 / 50,000
Nov 1, 2009 - 23 20
Here is my excerpt...
At the top of one hill, Grandpa Joe spotted a truck farmer selling watermelons and peaches. He asked me if I would rather have a peach or a watermelon. I considered a moment then asked “Couldn’t we get a peach for now and a watermelon for after dinner?” Grandpa Joe laughed as he closed the door and walked toward the back of the farmer’s truck. He came back to the truck with a brown paper bag of peaches, which he handed to me, and a watermelon that he put in the bed of the truck.
When he climbed back into the truck he asked “Well aren’t you going to eat one of those peaches?” as he pulled one out and took a bite. I reached in and felt the soft fuzzy skin of the peach as I pulled it out of the bag. The peaches were nearly as soft and fuzzy as the felt they use in Sunday school. I had to touch them all before deciding on one to eat. I pulled out a large one with purple on the skin and took a large bite. The juices started running out of my mouth and down my throat. It was the best tasting peach I had ever eaten. Grandpa grinned as he looked over at the mess I was making with my peach. “Should we save the rest and let Mamaw make peach ice cream?” he asked.
“Yes please” I answered as I continued making a mess all over my clothes. As I finished off the peach I asked “What should I do with this pit?”
“Just toss it out the window so the birds can eat it.” Grandpa Joe replied. I tried to roll the window down but the roller kept slipping out of my juice covered hands. “That’s okay. Just hold onto it for a minute.” Grandpa offered. “Don’t you think you need to get cleaned up before we see your Mamaw?” I looked down at the mess I’d made and nodded my head in agreement. “Okay then we’ll take a detour down this old dirt road and get you all fixed up.” Grandpa said as he turned the truck to the left and headed down the red dirt road.
37,138 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 11 46
Here is my excerpt please understand I am poor at spelling and puncuation. you have been warned.
Officer Scott woke early the next morning with a feeling of dread. Before the phone rang he knew there had been another murder. But this time something about the premonition he would get before being called out was different, more personal. Something dark and sinister hiding in the shadows of his mind, he could not shake the feeling as he answered the phone. You’ve got me Capt, where do I need to be? PPCC? Your sure? An interesting place.” As he feared the brass had finally decided that there was something to his theory that there was a serial killer in the springs, but there was something else that made him feel uneasy. “on my way sir ill be there in ten” grabbing a fresh shirt and jacket he slipped on his shoulder holster and his back up on his ankle. Out to the south side of town, still the feeling grew. Something was definitely wrong. Something was seriously wrong and it was going to be close to home. As he pulled up to school and saw Alice’s car there with four uniforms next to it the feeling in his gut tightened another notch. Parking he made his way over the officers nodded “Detective Scott, we were ordered to wait till you arrived and viewed the scene in there.” Motioning to the school, with a heavy heart he made his way up the pathway and into the building. One of the officers guiding the way to the room where the victim had been found, as they came down the hall the smell of death hit him, It was fresh. Not like the others. This one had not sat for days waiting to be found there was music coming from the room. Some piece of Johann Christian Bach, was being played on flutes, Dulcimer and violin. The officer stopped ten feet from the door looking pale. “Sir if you don’t mind I cant go in there again.” Looking at the officer knowing he had been to some serious scenes “that Bad George?” the officer nodded. “Its not like the others the others were just posed.” Turning the man retched into a nearby waste can that had apparently been used a time or three for the same thing already. Closing his eyes for a moment Ron gathered his thoughts. “Ok go back out with the others. Ill call you in if I need you.” Turning he made his way in still unsure of what he would find. As he entered the first thing he saw was a series of strings and bellows and gear boxes set up to the side of the door set to a trigger that had obviously been connected to the door at one point. The next thing he noted was twelve women stationed at instruments, some with their arms cut open for the removal of bones others for the removal of tendons. The violins had tendons stretched where the strings should be the flutes were made from bones in the arms of the flutists and the dulcimer keys were made from the ribs of many of the victims. Each with a white rose pierced through their throats. Their eyes closed faces relaxed as if in the throws of ecstasy brought on by the music. Then he saw her. Alice wired to stand at the conductors station her ribs having been removed for the dulcimer as well as the tendons in her arms, as the gears turned her hands moved conducting the instruments. Then her head turned towards him as if looking to see why he was not playing. The white rose had been fed from eye socket to eye socket and a thin piece of paper was coiled and held between her teeth. When unfolded it read
I am waiting in the night,
Watching, admiring, this fearful rite
Your beauty an inspiring sight
Your fate must be performed just right
Ever to and ever from
Your solo soon will come
No fruit with flesh so pure
A peach to ravish and devour
Pure and sweet it will be
A concert in the note of G
In this my opus you will be
Laid to rest eternally
So we wait for the full moons light
For that will be the Devils concert night.
Thirteen days to see
Fulfillment of the prophecy
D.S
----------Passion, Drive, and Desire are the keys to the Pleasure of imagination. it is fundamental that in your dreams for the future you never loose sight of the goals and structure of reality.
41,722 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 15 12
I think I'm coming up on a scene that this would work perfectly for. :) Woo-Hoo to kicking my wordcount up!
----------Amber
www.gipsysmusings.com/nano
50,086 / 50,000
Nov 3, 2009 - 17 06
I put some music to the song lyrics I wrote as my fulfillment of the peach dare, and I thought y'all might enjoy hearing the song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEXSQ_KZOZs
As of posting this, the video is still being processed, so the quality isn't fabulous, but I need to get back to actually writing.
----------Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes.
2007: Roommates (Won!)
2008: Love on Location (Won!)
2009: Crushing the Competition (We'll See!)
88,251 / 50,000
Nov 5, 2009 - 21 53
Yaaaaay, I worked it in! :D And yay for peaches being vicious weapons...
crunch!
His ears tilted sideways and down. Her eyes just kept on getting wider and wider.
"It's... peach?"
Hazel eyes kept on getting wider and wider, before she just looked plain quizical. One brow pushed down into her eye, the other just barely raised.
"No," the boy said, his voice muffled by moist crunching, "It's Hiraku."
As it leaned forward, Erin studied the soft, fuzzy skin around the light orange fruit. Just a bit of the fruit's juice had crawled from the sweet, orange felsh inside. His fingers touching the fruit barely shimmered from the liquid, reflecting the flame lit lamp over on the side.
"And this," he pointed down, waving his hand holding the object. His voice was muffled still, "is a peach."
"...Peach?" Still so quizical, perplexed.
"I was hungry."
"But a peach?" Where'd he get that from, anyways? Did he just carry around peaches in his pocket? It didn't look like there was anything in his pockets...
"Yes, a peach. I like them."
Erin suddenly made an expression of disgust, sticking out her tongue between her teeth.
"Peaches suck."
"Momo," he said, another crunch escaping from his teeth.
"Her arms had become folded over her chest, no longer hanging onto her sleeve; he was too busy eating to leave, she told herself.
"'cuse me?"
"I'm calling you Momo."
"Uh. But, my name's Erin."
"No. I'm calling you Momo," another crunch, "Means peach."
Wakarimasen... and Ikimasu!
"Ugh," Erin groaned, hands tightening into fists.
CRINCH!
"Ow!"
That stupid boy threw his nasty half-eaten peach at her! She rubbed her forehead with her palm, vigourously; there must've been a red spot, or some blood, from that...
"Do you like peaches?" the black haired boy questioned to Stitch.
"Hmm..." his beady black eyes gazed down, his claw pressing against his mouth, "...Bleh!"
"Then, you're Momoko."
"Eee!? Naga!!"
"Would you please just call use our real names? ...Ignoring the fact that Stitch's name is Experiment 626..."
"Naga, naga!" the blue alien started jumping up and down, piquing in, "My name Stitch!"
The boy only rolled his eyes, arms folded over his chest.
"No. You're Momo and he's Momoko."
A deep, deep grumble resonated in Erin's throat as she threw her fists next to her sides. Aw man, her knuckles were turning so white! She seemed so annoyed.
"...Fine then!" she stabbed her finger at him through the air, barely touching his vest, "You're Hiro! Not Hirako!"
http://crimsonblaine.wordpress.com/
38,530 / 50,000
Nov 6, 2009 - 20 50
I actually stumbled across my peach inclusion on my first day of writing, but forgot to come post it:
Eleanor had just tucked into her lunch that day – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with a fresh, fuzzy peach and a single Oreo cookie – when she heard what sounded like a muffled call to the Greek goddess Athena.
7,953 / 50,000
Nov 6, 2009 - 23 36
This wasn't remotely what I'd envisioned at first when I read about the peach challenge, but ended up being a fun way to throw it in :)
==================================
It slipped through flesh and bone as easily as a spoon through fresh cream. Dark, warm blood spilled out over her hands and the jewel-like feathers. She set the knife aside, and the bile rose in her throat as she around fumbled blindly inside the bird's ribs.
How hard can a heart be to find? she thought almost frantically, hands sliding around unfamiliar innards and viscera. Suddenly, as if it had sought out her fingers, they closed on something firm and roundish. Grasping it carefully, she was rather disturbingly struck by the memory of being given a peach as a girl. A merchant, hauling crates of the delicate golden pink fruits had passed a night under their roof, and had left a bag of them in tribute.
At the time, her hands had been small enough that it had taken both of them to wrap around the treasure when it was handed to her. The flesh of it had been soft and firm, and the skin covered in a soft down, and the flesh tender, sweet, the juices dribbling down her chin and onto her summer shift.
Parthia pulled on the object, and when it would not be freed, she took up the knife again and cut away the stems of vessels and fleshy tubes. It filled her hand, slick and still seeping warm life like the fruit from some monstrous nightmare tree.
----------Leesa (Blog)
NE Perimeter, Atlanta, GA
Goal: 50k | Novel: Parthia Answered | Genre: Fantasy