Adam steals a boat, and makes a shocking discovery.
The enormity of what had happened finally caught up to me, and I sank to the floor, sobbing loudly as I realized that my son was still dead.
You know that moment of silence right after the power goes out? And how it’s like the loudest silence ever? Or how when the power goes out in the middle of the night, you wake up, even though it’s quieter than it was when you went to sleep? How do we recognize that? What is it about that silence that makes us instantly alert and aware?
A few days after I made this rambling post about post-apocalyptic fiction, a story idea started emerging from the strange abyss I call my mind. I let it brew and stew and simmer for a while, letting it coalesce into something that might possibly be considered a coherent thought. Then I started writing things down.
I’ve been trying to outline my latest book. I want to develop “The Sad Girl” into a full-length novel, because I think it will be a good story. But it’s taken a very dark turn at the moment. I’m not above writing a dark story about an ugly topic, but at the moment, I haven’t