Last year, I took part in the daunting, yet awe-inspiring NaNoWriMo (an annual challenge that takes place every November, during which writers attempt to complete the entire first draft of a novel in one month). Last year was my first time taking part in the challenge, and I managed to meet the 50,000-word target … a feat that still makes me proud. 😊
And now, I am preparing to do it all over again! My project, ‘Wednesdays’ is shrouded in mystery. 😮 At the time of writing this summary in late October, all I have is an image of a young woman standing on a city street, her hand turned upward, catching droplets of rain. Below is everything I’ve managed to glean from this image so far – hopefully I can expand on it and learn more about this character as November begins. ❤️
It’s been dull all day – the skies ominous, heavy with the promise of rain – but in a way, this has come as a relief. It’s given us all something to talk about, besides the ever-growing rations list, the alarms that could blare through the streets at any moment, the brittle atmosphere that seeped into every crevice of this city this summer.
Today, business has been brisk, and I’ve been able to retreat into a routine of polite smiles and amiable nods, holding variations of the same conversation with every customer who has come in.
‘Yes, yes, the weather has taken a turn this week, hasn’t it?’
‘Oh, winter is drawing in, no doubt about it – you can feel the chill in the air.’
‘It does get dark very early these days.’
‘You’ll be wanting extra insulation sheets, of course. Will I wrap them up for you?’
‘Give my best to your family.’
‘Mind your step on the way out, now!’
Now I’m standing on the pavement, the shutters have been drawn and the clouds overhead are beginning to break. I stretch out my hand and let the first droplets land like arrows, melting into my palm.
Farrah used to do that: thrust her hands upwards to greet the first drops of rain – always smiling, always sporting the mysterious glint in her eyes that I never fully understood … and always oblivious to the strange looks or mocking remarks she would receive.
I remember her arriving into the shop every Wednesday afternoon after her classes had ended, come rain, hail or shine. Everything about her was colour, sunshine, vivacity. Nora always used to say that Farrah and I could have been sisters.
But I don’t know her anymore.
Image found via Pinterest