For this week’s quote of the week, I thought I would add in a couple more than usual. And…uh oh…they aren’t about writing. Time to have a little fun I say and break away from the norm.
Monthly Archives: September 2013
And we’re back to our regularly scheduled program. On a quick side note, I believe I said I would make a post about writing a novel and how consuming it becomes. Well, as you can see, my theorem holds true (or I’m just lazy). One of these days I’ll do it. One of these days (and the book is almost done now)…
Well anyways, to make up for the lack of posts, another longer edition of the paragraph of the week. Enjoy!
John watched Jacques tap the board and put in the order. He lingered in the front, staring at the men behind the bar, watching them throw a piece of meat on the flames. It sizzled and cracked, the tiny space filling with the aroma of frying chicken. Jacques turned, coming back to the seat with a grin.
“She said they will bring it out to us in ten minutes,” Jacques said, sitting down across from John.
“I was surprised when you called me today. I didn’t even know you were in town.”
“Don’t know who was more surprised, you or me. Never thought I would call you again, not in a million years. How could I?”
“Easily it seems.” Jacques laughed.
“Funny, it’s all so funny. I wasn’t even sure the number Jones gave me would work, not after you ran like that.”
“I didn’t run.”
“Then where were you all those days after? Why did you leave the force the very next day? I go there, trying to talk to you, and I’m told you left. Then I go to your apartment and it’s vacant. You know what that says to me? It just screams ——”
Well, it seems we had a short break in the paragraphs of the week. That’s what happens when you get too caught up in writing! And now, a double dose of the paragraph of the week(that will surely make up for my recent absence…).
None of it had made sense at first. Jacques had been John’s old partner on the police force. In the year they had been working together, they had become best friends. After late night patrols, they would have a beer and go back to John’s place, both of them sleeping on the couch while infomercials blared on the TV. It hadn’t taken long for them to do almost everything together. Thinking of their friendship had made him, and even his wife, smile. But that night had changed their lives.
John had doubted everything. John tried to deny it, but the truth was in front of him: Jacques had been sleeping with John’s wife and something had happened between them, maybe pregnancy, maybe a fight, and Jacques had decided it was too much. He had killed her. Or was his mind running away on him again, showing him flames where there were none? John didn’t know, he didn’t know much of anything these days.