Congrats to Jenny for having her story made into a video to be shown at such a huge event! Tres cool.
I'm relieved that all (but Sean so far) have agreed to take a little writing group vacation next month. I need a breather and life's too busy. We'll be refreshed and perky, and very wordy, when we reconvene on Sept. 16th, I just know it.
July 28--Nokanhui, New Caledonia. Drake lay half in sunlight and half in shade. His lips were crusted and split, and his tongue felt like it was three times normal size. He rolled his head to one side and felt instantly better without the sun pounding on his unprotected flesh. The breeze off the ocean slid across his sweaty back cooling him a bit. He levered himself up on his elbows with a groan. What had hit him? He looked around to see the bundle of feathers that was a gull caught in his snare. The thrashing bird had knocked him unconsciousness, whanged him in the temple with the knuckle of its wing and he had dropped like a rock. There was no time to lose, he had to get the bird plucked and roasted before the meat spoiled. He was too near the edge, stuck that as he was on an island barely a foot about sea level to let such a valuable catch go to waste.
Okay, then, I like his name and I like his resourcefulness, the rest of it I'm pretty fuzzy on, but it's not bad, better than the last few anyway. I'm off to work--again. See you.