I would say it has been a busy Thanksgiving weekend, and to some extent it was, but I spent nearly all day sessile on the couch in front of various football games I cared nothing about.
So I have no excuse as to the forward progress of my novel. It’s fourth and inches.
Here’s something completely different- episode 8 of my #scifi exercise in progress…
Castaneda unlocked her door and walked into her room.
Jones was there, shoving laundry into the chute. Her side arm was on the table, next to a bloody radio.
The two women locked eyes and froze.
Jones dove for the weapon. Castaneda dove for Jones.
Castaneda launched into the now armed Jones, and the two fell to the bed, both wrestling for the weapon.
Jones twisted and slammed her elbow into Castaneda’s jaw, making the captain loosen her grip.
Castaneda let go of Jones’s hands and grabbed around her waist, wrestling her off the bed and onto the floor, neck first.
Jones aimed her weapon at Castaneda’s head, but her hand was blocked by the capitan’s forearm.
Castaneda punched Jones in the face with three quick jabs, splitting Jones’s lip.
Jones managed to get her feet under the captain and thrust, sending the smaller woman tumbling across the floor.
Castaneda jumped to her feet to see the weapon being held in front of her face.
Jones said, “Your move.”
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