As the month closes in five minutes I just wanted to reflect on my accomplishment. I’m proud of myself because I reached 62,738 words written this month. Not so bad. My goal for March is 65k+.
Live life like driving. Keep looking forward and only glance back to see where you’ve been.
“I may be the world’s worst writer, but I’m the world’s best rewriter.”
Devon set up his alerts in his phone and left the burner with the serial number cloned in the bar’s bathroom. He spent a few minutes in front of the bar getting the attention of a few workers with jokes and charisma. Devon left his tab open when he exited through the side door.
There was crime scene tape already in place by time Devon arrived a few hours later. He watched as the police combed over the scene and the detectives swapped ideas. He bit back his smile and ruffled his hair as he made his way to the barricade.
“No,” Devon shouted as he tried to push pass the officer there, “you have to let me in that’s my girlfriend’s house!”
“Sir,” the detective turned around to see what the commotion was all about, “you know the woman that lives here?”
“Yeah,” Devon ran his hand through his hair, “it’s my girlfriend’s place.”
The detective pushed the barricade aside just enough for him to slip through.
“I’m Detective Carter and that’s my partner Detective Richardson. I’m sorry to have to tell you.”
“No. Not Amy. Not Amy!” Devon tried to push pass the detective.
“You don’t want to go in there. It isn’t worth you seeing what’s left of her.”
“W-what’s left of her?” Devon’s eyes went wide and he grew still, “what do you mean?”
“She is the latest victim of the Douglasdale Slasher. Let’s go down to the precinct. I think it’ll be best for you to talk there.”
“No. I need to see her. She,” Devon gulped, “she just can’t be. No. I don’t believe you,” Devon shook his head as tears puddled in his eyes.
At that moment the coroner pulled the stretcher out the house to take downtown.
“Nooo!” Devon dropped to his knees as tears spilled down his face.
Death Will KNOCK on your door. It’ll greet you like an old friend but sometimes it’s your Enemy. Death doesn’t know any better. Death sneaks up. Death doesn’t discriminate. It’s cold and it’s alone, Broken, destroyed, and fed well. The Lonely clammy discontent. Drowning drowning drowning.
Last week I managed to write a total of 10,012 words. They were in different projects but I’m happy to have accomplished so much. It’s the highest word count I’ve been able to reach in an extremely long time. It’s heeling me regain my confidence.