I finally, finally have an idea! It started with the title of a Sandberg poem, The Abracadabra Boys, which I cannibalized, and no, the story I'm writing will bear no resemblance to the poem, although I'd really, really like allude to or use,They knoweth not how the kumquat cometh.
As I said before, I will be posting excerpts and entire sections of my nano daily writing, and I anticipate that there will be punctuation running amuck, dangling metaphors, tense and point of view confusion, and much, much worse. This process is messy, ugly, and gritty, (and some fun), and it will be okay, because they will be my messes, (which I will clean up. Later!).
If you're interested in learning nanowrimo, here's the site.
Here's goes.
The Abracadabra Girl
Danna
He is here, inside me. Can't you understand? He is small as a twist of twine. That is why you can't see him, but I feel him moving here under my left rib. He want's something, I can feel it, the young girl said.
No. No one is here. Antoinette, there is nothing inside you but your blood. I only want you to eat, the man said.
He sat across the dented wooden table from her, buttering one half of a hard roll. He slid it toward her.
Eat, he said.
No, we're not hungry, she said and stretched backward, presenting the sharp outline of her ribcage through her thin cotton dress.
Right here, she said, rubbing the bone. Look. Anyone can see. Even you.
The man pulled a thinly rolled cigarette from a worn leather case, struck a match on the table's underside and lit it, inhaling deeply then let the smoke out slowly as if he were whistling. He reached across the table and the girl took it from him.
Thank you, papa, she said.
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