Working on a Novel

A tiny excerpt from a novel I’m working on dealing with how academics are turning up gruesomly murdered. At the same time there is a group of terrorists campaigning around language rights. As dectectives hunt the killer it looks more and more like the evolution of language is the culprit.

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Societal Fragments

We are all devided. We are all fragmented. We argue. We shout. We holler. We face the abyss of our own making. We allowed the media to tear us apart. We allowed social media to drive the wedge further. We stopped listening. We destroyed society.

The Fall into Autumn

The sun glints off the water, water as still as a skating rink. The golden and blood-red leaves perfectly reflected on the surface of the water. A fish jumping above the water, making ripples that disturb the leaves with a non-existent wind. The last of the summer heat caressing my body with its dying embers.

The world feels calm.

These are days that I wish could go on forever.

They never do. The next day is grey. Everything feels contaminated by the greyness. It seeps into everything. A day when you feel a primeval urge to curl up beside a fire and not set out into the world.

Then the rain comes. Constant. A rain that looks like it will never end. The puddles forming, only as a way to further reflect the grey light. My bones feel it, everything aches. A cold permeates that chills right to my soul.
These are the days that go on forever.