Been a while since I typed directly into my laptop. It never feels comfortable to my hands.
I’ve resigned myself to the seeming fact that this 1000 Day effort will be going out with more of a whimper than a roar. At least I keep getting back here, huh?
Rebecca pushed back from the flit pad railing. Tjon wouldn’t be coming back, and, except for the stars, the sky felt the same way she did: empty. She knew running wasn’t his choice, but the angry words they’d shared [at their last encounter] sapped her full confidence in that thought.
Uma was dead. Tjon was missing. And [the girl] had murdered [someone] and run deeper into the building. Rebecca checked the charge on her weapon; not much juice remaining. [The girl] needed to be stopped, so she holstered her [blaster, ugh] and pulled the barricade apart. She was going back in.
150 words on day 987