Hello everybody and welcome for a new Sunday of writing with Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday!
I'm sorry for my absence the past few weeks. I had a bit of a hard time.
I'm sorry for my absence the past few weeks. I had a bit of a hard time.
Let's continue with "The House at the Crossing"
and it's a prequel to Demon Soul and the demon series. It's a bit of a mix of Fantasy and Science-fiction.
It
follows one of the books more obscure character as she first come into
the House. It's suppose to explain why there are so many people is the
house and sort of where they come from and at the same time be a first
time adventure for the main character as she needs to adapt to her new
role and the new version of who she is.
I finally finished the first draft of "The House at the Crossing". I even managed to make it like it doesn't really need a sequel which totally works for my work load. Anyway.
Let's start right at where we left off !
“What does that mean?”
“I was born here, in this house.”
Teresa sets the boiler on the table and sits next to me, she is so skinny that I feel any rushed movement might break her but she just crosses her fingers in front of her on the table.
“Then one day, I had to go out, we always have to go out somehow,” she smiled.
Everything seem so obvious to me but the others have settled and all versions of me are listening.
“When I left this house, nothing I did was absolute anymore. My choices were partial. Do I get the blue dress or the red dress? If I was to get the red dress, there was a part of me that would still get the blue one and then came the fragmentation. Each of my new self created, duplicated would go their own way, sometimes very close, sometimes, very far. Every choices I made created new versions of me.”
“I was born here, in this house.”
Teresa sets the boiler on the table and sits next to me, she is so skinny that I feel any rushed movement might break her but she just crosses her fingers in front of her on the table.
“Then one day, I had to go out, we always have to go out somehow,” she smiled.
Everything seem so obvious to me but the others have settled and all versions of me are listening.
“When I left this house, nothing I did was absolute anymore. My choices were partial. Do I get the blue dress or the red dress? If I was to get the red dress, there was a part of me that would still get the blue one and then came the fragmentation. Each of my new self created, duplicated would go their own way, sometimes very close, sometimes, very far. Every choices I made created new versions of me.”
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