Daily insights not only from #nanowrimo 50 K creative project with excerpts
By Emma Palova
EW Emma’s Writings
Lowell, MI – As I plug along toward the 50K #nanowrimo novel writing goal, I observe daily life with new joy; that is the time when I don’t have to write.
So, first of all: “Happy birthday Josephine Marie Palova.” The chocolate cake with the five princesses are all waiting for you.
Second: It’s a nice day out there with unusual November sunshine, so I took a ride to the tart cherry and apple H&W Farm on Belding Road to get some Thanksgiving goodies for the big feast tomorrow.
I got some fresh apple cider, Honeycrisp apples, chocolate covered tart cherries, hot pepper preserves, boysenberry jelly and cherry green tea from Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor.
With the exception of the delicious cider, all the goodies are going into a care package for my parents who are leaving for Venice, Florida the week after Thanksgiving.
With that said, I logged in this morning with 41,264 words in the 50K marathon while a few have reached the end of their sprint. My short story “40 Hunks” (c) 2018 Emma Palova has taken on a surprising spin.
The story will become a part of my new story collection “Secrets” (c) 2018 Emma Palova.
Who knows where this story will lead me?
Excerpts from “40 Hunks”
The men arrived the next morning on the frozen central farm shaking with cold, thirst and hunger. They only knew the heat coming from the Sonoran Desert along with the “dust devils.” The producer showed them into the large barn with half-empty storage crates with Evercrisp apples. It was cold in the barn too. The producer known to friends as Frank was saving money on everything from heat to labor cost.
Jose watched the process along with work guide Mike carefully.
“We were expecting 40 men,” said Frank looking at the government list with names. He noticed one name was crossed off. “You know the drill; 40 men in, 40 men out at the end of the season. No tricks or I get in trouble with the government.”
Holding tight onto Mike’s shoulder, Jose immediately responded.
“Antonio couldn’t make it, he stayed at home sick,” said Jose looking directly at Mike.
Mike was shaking with fear as he felt the barrel of a gun press through his pants onto his thigh. He could hear the lyrics in his head from the bus ride, since the casette player played it over and over again.
Do you mean this horny creep, set upon weary feet, in need of sleep, That doesn’t come?
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