This week’s excerpt is from a newly resurrected novella. I’ve always been partial to it, but novellas can be tough to publish. I finally found a publication accepting longer stories with a June 30 deadline. I’m struggling with the flow and tone in several spots, but I like how my main character’s voice shines through here.
On my way out I heard it. Somebody was playing a high and mournful guitar solo, dragging a note out to just the right length before tumbling onward. I felt like I was walking through his open heart. I had to stop and listen, strain my ears through all the soundproofing in the walls. God, I loved listening to someone who could improvise like that. There are vocalists who can do it, too, but I never could. It was the one place where my voice still felt inhibited, like I had something stuck in my throat.
I heard another door open down the hall and shook it off, smoothing my arm hair down where it had been standing on end. When I walked past the room with the guitarist, I took a look out of the corner of my eye. The arm hair stood back up again and a chill went right down to my ankles.
— from Nightswimming (YA short fiction)
For previous Excerpts of the Week, click here.