I stopped writing in the middle of a sentence tonight. I started it.... it's where I want to be, but then I wasn't sure where it was going to go. And this is important: the end of this sentence decides the direction Babs in going to go in dealing with her own faith.
And I'm not sure where she's going.
So I am off to bed, and I hope the next few chapters will work themselves out while I sleep.
Word count for Sunday: 1,576
My favorite paragraph which I will no doubt have to kill down the line because I like it so much:
"Which one of you is the patient?"
“The one who looks like her arm is a helium balloon,” I say. I get a look for that. “Ashley Babcock.” I think of SAT week 5: acquiesce.
“And what is she here for?”
I point to her bloated arm and neck. “I’m afraid she got in Willy Wonka’s secret stash of gum last night and things went terribly wrong when it came to the cherry pie part.” Ashley giggles, but the nurse gives me a look to kill. Clearly there is no sense of humor in the ER.