I've worked a long time on this story - perhaps too long. I'm still not sure it's right. But it's the best I can do with it. 3,700 words (maybe that's it... it's too long!)
A chapter from a longer piece I'm working on. How long I'm not sure yet. It's the first piece of writing I've managed for months. First draft. 4,000 words.
...so far: Alan's still struggling to write his masterpiece, Lemon's spent some of his winnings on a new house, Billy's been served with a notice that the Hippodrome's up for auction.
After breakfast, I walk into town for some cash and find myself joining in that familiar phenomenon of modern urban paranoia: the ATM Conga. I can understand giving some 'I'm not peeping at your PIN' space to the person currently using the machine. But the gap always seems to knock on to each subsequent person in the queue ' so you end up with a line of 6 people that stretches about 15 yards across the pavement.