Well, I was able to crunch out a couple hundred words for you today. Back on the “New Bits” piece.
I suppose I’m going to have to pick one or the other of these exercise streams* and stick with it for a while…
*Remember, these are just shotgunned exercises. No edits, no nothing, so: No; they’re not perfect.
A harsh knock on the door startled me, and before I could do anything, Jules’ voice came through. “Christ, Jimmy! Come on! We don’t have all day!”
I collected myself and opened the door with a flourish.
She grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me into the hallway, dragging the door closed behind me.
“Don’t start with that temporal do-over bullshit. You know that’s not how it works.” She took off down the hallway, though it was hard to see her once she got more than a dozen feet away. The shitty fluorescent lights flickered inconsistently, and the darker-shade-of-shit painted cinderblock walls, coupled with the stained, field sobriety test patterned carpet, didn’t help, absorbing any light that made it past the lenses covering the bulbs.
“Seriously, could we please find a better ejection point for the TDs than this rat-trap?” I asked.
“It’s out of the way. It’s a stable property. It’s perfect for the Division’s needs,” she said, pulling her comm-unit out of the front packet of the gray hoodie she wore over a white t-shirt. Apparently, she had been with the Division long enough to have programmed some style into her clothing selections. The t-shirt and hoodie were snug, and the jeans…
“Nice bedazzled ass, Jules.”
“Welcome to 2017 Las Vegas. Look at my ass again and I’ll make sure you get stuck here.”
As she rounded a corner, I snuck a last look at her sequined backside—it really was a thing of beauty—then decided it was time to get to work. Fun-time was over, and I knew it.