Monday Challenge: Zzzzzz

diagram of a human digestive system

Seriously, caffeine. Get it together. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It is 11:30 AM and the coffee has not kicked in yet. This seems unfair.

I’ve been up long enough to consume an entire pot of coffee. It’s just not finding me this morning. Got fucking lost somewhere between my digestive tract and my brain, I think. I’m contemplating swallowing an anatomy chart to help it out. And I’m groggy enough that this seems like a good idea.

But whether the mood-altering chemicals are effective or not, it’s Monday, and that means it’s time for another Monday Challenge. And, since I should be setting a good example*, once I finish writing mine, I will be posting it in the comments section for you all to pick over with your eyes. The unedited raw version, too, with its shirt half-undone and its shoes on the wrong feet. Hell, I’m having trouble getting going this morning; maybe this will get my writing day properly started.

So, to arms, lads. The Challenge is attacking.

Allow me to set a scene for you: early morning, so early that the mist hasn’t lifted yet. There’s some light, but just that silvery, doesn’t-illuminate-shit light that passes for it at this time. The only things properly awake are the birds, who have been screaming their heads off for the last hour, and the damn super fit neighbour who makes everyone feel bad about themselves by getting a workout in before the rest of us have finished hitting snooze. That asshole.

Your character is awake. They got maybe two hours of sleep last night. And two hours of crap sleep at that. So they’re up in plenty of time to properly get their hate on for the fit neighbour.

What the hell are they doing up?

Take it where you want. Stress keeping them up? Drugs? Don’t need to sleep since the experiment? Can’t sleep more than a couple of hours without getting up to take a look around? Did the birds wake them with their incessant screaming? Are they getting a rifle to show those little avian bastards who’s boss? Is the rifle for the super-fit neighbour instead? Or are they happy to be up? Do they have some reason to fear sleep?

Tell me of their morning. In return, I will tell you about the morning of one of my characters. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.

But first I need some more fucking coffee.

*Or being a terrible, terrible warning. Either way.

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One thought on “Monday Challenge: Zzzzzz

  1. Fresh off the keys:

    The jogger pushed her way through the morning mist until it looked like she was running through a cloud in the street below. She didn’t look around—in fact, she gave no sign that she had any idea she was being watched—but Emmett watched until she passed the building they’d stayed in the night before. He knew the jogger couldn’t see him up here in the broken third floor window, but long habit made him stay motionless until she rounded the corner. She’d never know about the gun trained on her from above.
    Once she was gone, he let out a breath and lowered the gun. The birds sang nearby, even here in the city, but he knew better than to relax. He couldn’t.
    But the tiredness scratched at his eyes, making it hard to focus. Reaching out carefully, the way he’d taught himself, he felt for the thread of power running through the electrical lines. Careful, careful, he told himself as the energy rushed in, sweeping away the ache of fatigue.
    Or some of it, anyway. He needed to sleep soon; three days was too long, even for someone like him. But one glance over his shoulder showed him that Maia was still asleep in the corner. The rounded swell of her belly made a mountain under the thin blanket.
    She’s going to be pissed when she finds out I didn’t wake her, he thought. He could already hear the argument. But she’s too far along now. She needs it more than I do.
    And… He didn’t want to think it, but the thought was there whatever he wanted. And something’s not right lately. Ever since she hit the third trimester. She’s too tired, even for a pregnant woman. Too drained.
    It’s going wrong.

    The fear returned then, sharp and sudden. It was never far away these days. I shouldn’t have done this to her. Not when I knew the danger involved. Even if we lose the trackers, she might—
    No.
    The thought of danger turned his face back to the window. Keep watch, he told himself, setting tasks in front of the fear to keep it at bay. You can draw a little more power yet before you go too far. Use it to stay awake a while longer. Make sure those tracker assholes didn’t follow you here.
    And maybe we’ll both live long enough to see that baby born.

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