Tboi. She liked the sound of his name when she said it. He’d said her name too. His words leading up to it had been angry, but not when he said her name. She closed her eyes, could still hear it, “That’s why we don’t touch the ground, Terra.” She shortened it. “That’s why, Terra.” His voice had softened at her name, had been gentle. He’d asked her what she was thinking. She wondered, in the silence that divided them after angry words subsided, what was he thinking.
Tune in for quick reads of the best (or least despicable) selections from the previous day’s word count, by virtue of my daily writing regimen for the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). WARNING: editing has not taken place.