16/08/2015 um 22:06
I worked a lot on “Beginnings” the last few days, finally cleared out the excess words and laid out the structure for the last few chapters. And I also wrote an awful lot that isn’t showing up in the statistic, because I deleted much more. Gnah. Frustrating. Anyway, here’s a glimpse at the words that ‘do not count’:
There were three reasons Adelie preferred the Lemon Tree over every other diner in town. First, it was never crowded, despite the fact that it was practically next to the airbase. Second, the hot dogs. The Lemon Tree’s hot dogs were special. The bun always had a crackly crust and a fluffy inside, not spongy like cheap ones. The roasted onions were crisp and caramelised to perfection. The hot dog itself was always indeed hot and not lukewarm like in other places. The ketchup was home-cooked, a chunky red sauce with a spicy aftertaste, and Adelie often just ordered fries because of it. The third reason was, of course, the handsome guy behind the counter, who currently smiled at her while she finished her hot dog. Nate was the main reason she dropped by because it was an easy way to see him during their busy days. He worked three shifts a week, which ate up a considerable amount of his free time. Outside the big windows, the first fall storm played chase with the leaves. Inside, the Lemon Tree’s owner, Trudy, was busy putting up some fall themed decorations, mainly pumpkins.
“Do you have rugby training tonight?” Adelie asked, pushing back the empty dish.
“Yeah, it’s going to be a hoot in this weather. Let’s hope there’ll be no rain, that makes everything so slippery.” Nate collected her dish and brought it into the kitchen.
As he returned she said: “I’m going to think of you, while I curl up on my love seat, reading a good book and drinking hot cocoa.”
He shot her a dirty look and walked around the counter to sit down on a bar stool next to her. The diner was empty so he could keep her company for a while. His handsomeness was off the charts today, with the little stubble on his chin and the lick of black chest hair that was visible under the v-neck of his t-shirt. The navy blue of his hoodie set off the bright blue of his eyes even more. She wanted to slide her hands over his chest, under its thick fabric where his warmth would be waiting for her. His nearness was the best antidote against any heartache she was still harbouring.
“It’s unfair,” she murmured.
“Pardon?” He took her hands. “What’s unfair?”