The Municipal Bell

Truly I had not expected my “Therefore…but…” exercise on Sunday to have produced so much writing fodder for the week. I’m a little amazed that I came up with six different (and fairly distinct) options. I love that this exercise pre-loaded my week with ready-made scenes with the same topic. The unexpected delight the exercise gave me is the synergistic nature of the options: I can mix and match them. Glomming A with B or C with D and E was such a compelling (and obvious) epiphany I had to tamp it down during the option making effort at about B and a half.

I’ve already subsummed the spirit of option three into yesterday’s writing, but I’ll set that content aside to treat number three fresh today.

3) Therefore she goes to the mayordomo’s home to ransom him, but she finds him dead upon her arrival.

Woo spilled down the steps leading out from the Pratacalla like water from a punctured skin. At the bottom, in the dusty sand, away from its halls and columns and sanctified fools she spat a glob so thick it roped back to her chin. She smeared it dry with the palm of her hand. On the ground, the bulk of her ire cohered into a wet-darkened ball.

“What do they think is going to happen?” Do they think the Bel Avi will just stop laundering clothes and planting crops? Stop bathing or drinking? Just stop?

Something had to be done she thought. Something had been done. She’d gathered her arguments and the will of her district and brought them to the Pratacalla where instead of anyone listening and understanding she’d been accosted by a guard and denied by the mayordomo. She had to do more. Woo couldn’t go back without more water for her people.

The mayordomo had reduced the Bel Avi’s water today when she’d pleaded. What might he do tonight when she threatened? Woo found a nearby brinna cafe and waited till the municipal bell toll.

334 words on day 951