I'll go ahead and tell you right now: this will be rarely updated. Furthermore, as this is a project to help develop my skills as a writer, there are no quotation marks in the work. EVER. I do this because the speaker wants to convey exactly what she says near the end of this chapter; actions, as well as words. Ideas, not permanent things. Please bear with me as I experiment with this fic.
Per usual, Disclaimer.
As We Meet
It is a bright day; sunny, two clouds in the distance. He smiles as we shake hands. A pleasant smile; one I can only see half of past the glare in my eyes. Long hair is tied back, green eyes seem intrigued. He knows why I am here, and I wonder if he'll be cooperative.
So you're my ghost writer, he says.
Something like that, I agree.
Here to tell the world about my deepest, darkest secrets?
I'm too nervous to notice he's only teasing me. So I smile, Only if you let me.
His smile grows; white teeth past chapped lips. So he does not know. Before this is all over, he chooses what stays and what goes. I have the urge to tell him, but the topic has already moved on.
Though his hands were washed, I swipe mine against my jeans. I can feel dirt under my fingernails.
His walk is a comfortable stride, as if he were among friends and allies. I wonder if he sees the way they look at us; there is judgment past the lethargy in their eyes. It's something only body language can show.
Their eyes do not condemn me, though as one looks away, I know they condemn him.
I know there hasn't always been a rift there, and I wonder how it was made. Perhaps that is why they judge; because I might never know.
Even if it is lies, I must write it.
I wonder if he sees what I do.
If he does, he does not appear to care.
He shows me to the room I will be sharing with the other girls. My pallet is the one on the far right; the trunk on the wall behind it was for my personal use. He suggests we try to keep it tidy, as the cleaners only come by once every two weeks. This means I will only see them once during my stay.
I tell him this is not a problem, and toss my bag onto my mat.
This Japanese habitat was not unexpected; but it was still uncomfortable. Likely I would adapt in time. He leans on the doorway, watching as I move to the trunk and inspect it. It is deep, made of wood, and would carry more than anything I'd brought along.
How often will you need to interview me? He asks, as if I'd done this before.
Perhaps he thinks I have. They must've talked us up to be something special, I'm sure. It was a lot of competition, to be here. It won't be a vacation during my stay. I'm here to make money. Odd, because he is here to recover.
I wouldn't say interview. Just talking, really. Ten, fifteen minutes a day.
Will you get enough material that way? He seems shocked. I shrug. He doesn't know I already have more than the others. I am good with words. It was why I'm here.
I smile. Should be.
To base his story off dialogue alone would be a grave mistake. Communication is made more by actions than by words. I will communicate as he does, as best as possible.
Perhaps this means omitting what he says, but I do not think that will be possible. He does not seem like a liar to me.
I will keep a notebook, anyway. To carry around and jot down notes. My laptop's life is short. I will not be able to write it all down as he says it, or I will miss important parts.
Notes will have to do.
As you can see, very short chapters. Please send questions to me through a review, and I will answer them all either in the A/Ns or through a PM (or, if I feel the need for temporary secrecy, in an explanation at the end of the fic). I believe this will be a relatively short project, something to work on in my writers block free time during NaNoWriMo. The chapters themselves are shorter than anything I've ever done before; and it seems the site is giving me a hard time with the formatting, so for the awkwardness I apologize.
Review please.
