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First few pages: Introduction to settings and characters. Introduction to primary and inner conflict.

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September 29, 2015.

The evening was crimson, shadowing the earth in a cosmic twilight and shaping the water, the skies, and Aria invisible. In this opaque guise, Aria envisages strangling the two voices inside her head with no one to witness them dead.

A few minutes earlier …….

In a world of seven billion people, she sneaked into the Village Marina to elope from the horror posted on the front door of her High Ranch, the content that stripped off her dignity.

She looks up and sees shades of grey blending with the orange sky; her eyes adjust to the warm darkness as she focuses on ripples of white foam whirlpool at the corner of the moorings. The sluggish laps affirm the blood flow in her human body as the waves plunge and dive back into the sea; the pause in nature rests her heart.  

This stillness is fazed by the commotion created inside the circumference of her spongy brain; she clutches the wet wooden railing to steady her wobbly knees.    

Aria stretches her plump short body towards the dark henna waves to dump her troubles in the water, but they hung onto her like a pair of cheap earrings, bruising her spirit.

In between her uneven breaths, I hear her, “I am not intimidated by your--’

“What, accusations.”

“You can’t chase me into this.”

“All I am asking is, is it too late for a quick fix?”

“And why is your chastening humiliating me.”

“Shut the front door.”

“You are blocking my door, so slam out.”

Aria’s fingers slide down her hair to untangle wet coils, whereas her abdomen screams to unleash the knots in her stomach. The stench of wet wooden planks tickles her nostrils, and she wipes the ooze from under her nose. Her fingers fumble inside her linen jacket pocket and touch a chasm; the lines on her forehead humor her ironic situation and the air beneath her sniff’s emptiness.

“Aria, you forgot to stitch the rips in your life, and bazoom, everything has fallen out of place."

Her high-pitched laughter dips in the reflection of a dark sky. 

"Bazoom is not a real word, and neither are you."

"Seriously, Aria, you think this is funny." Concerned by her detached reaction but careful not to mock her negligence, I cautiously select my words, "excessive investment in your outer self and fictionalizing your life is the root cause of this dilemma.”

I know her problems are not unexpected, but she has a knack for looking away as she would ignore a child’s attention-seeking behavior. This time, however, these cognizance repellents with stings worse than an infected mosquito are hard to dismiss.

Aria shuts her eyelids and disappears into the familiar blue and black figments to seek calm. She floats inside the dark pit and sees a rainbow in the black. Mesmerized by the inner darkness, Aria stays there for a few moments and then opens her eyes to the outside world.

Her eye contacts a lone goose, flapping her wings and swimming away from her. The green henna waves continue to crash and distract the buzz ringing in her ears; they also succeed in smothering her louder voice, Alpha.

I am Beta, her quieter voice, and I sneak in my whisper, “your concerns are pretentious, and you are being foolish not to be afraid.” 

"True, in recent years, I forgot to look at myself through myself. But I did manage to survive in this overly crowded world and bore the annoying company of the two of you.” 

I ignore her rebuffs, "You did let it happen? Aria, did you think they, hmm, would vanish? Did you believe you can swallow pills of neglect and your problems will ---?”

 She peeps in the water and sees no reflection, "you think I am responsible for the disappearance of the moon, the stars, and me." 

“Stop being amusing; it is not the time to mask your fears.”

“Right, it’s time to bugaboo.”

Our irrational conversation is ignored by the forces of nature, and we hear drums of rain and lightning fizzer in the sky. On the earth, raindrops dance on erratic waves, and in her mind, a mixed trickle of thoughts gushes by.

“Aria, the situation is serious; in three days, you will be -------you might as well throw your pride in the water.”

“Are you suggesting I jump?”

She counts the raindrops up to twenty-seven, makes a roundabout, and walks towards the main road; Aria deliberately misses the turn to her house and continues straight ahead. She stops by the small white and black lighthouse and pauses her nodulous life at this intersection.

Rain drizzles, lights turn red to green, cars honk, and drivers curse.  She anchors to the ground. The rain drizzles, the traffic lights change colors, cars honk, and drivers swear. Abruptly, a giant raindrop falls in her eye; the green light glares in the lens of her pupils and her middle ear acknowledges the honks and the curses.

The hollow instruction 'go home' seems reasonable to her tired mind. Aria walks a few feet, then deftly moves undercover seconds before lightning breezes a few meters from her. She leans against the tree and ignores the trembles inside her wet clothing. The rain tapers and the talks inside her head are quiet; Aria resumes her way back to a house that would shelter her for another two days.


500 words.docx

500 words.docx

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