he loves me. through all the simstim. the holograms. the fake sensations of the other world. i breathe his breath. the small room full of technology. we hardly ever speak. i hand him everything he needs. never consciously touching. only the brushing of fingers. my fingers through his hair while he’s sleeping. keyboard lovers. i feel his eyes on me. i never look up. never let him know. it would damage. everything. repairing his decks. quietly sitting on his futon. sweet tea and dumplings. raindrops on my hair. on my bare shoulders. the thin dress translucent. his eyes in the other world. waking up. early morning light colouring his hair. his hand. his fingers. on my shoulder. dare i touch his terminal tanned face.
I’ve started writing my novel again; maybe it’s being back at school that’s given me all these ideas. What I have so far is almost half a book, it needs more detail and some fleshing out and maybe some more drama before I can say it’s finished. A friend has been reading what I have so far and has been asking me questions about why and who and where, making me see that some things weren’t as clear as I thought they were. She also pointed out that one of my characters does nothing for the story. He just tags along, saying hardly anything and I realized that I put him in only because I wanted the boys and girls to be an equal number. So now, when I’m rewriting and adding he’s been cut out. I killed him. Well, maybe not anything as drastic as that, but he’s gone from the story. This changed the story some (duh), and it’s now better. There’s more focus on my main character and those closest to her. After dragging myself to the gym today I now really feel the need to get started with
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