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Archive for November, 2009

Okay everyone! I’m going to do it. I’m going to post the first installment of my first piece of fiction I’m working on. I’m just going to post the Intro to get you started. If you like what you read leave me a comment. If you don’t, Leave me a comment. Will welcome any constructive criticism. Keep in mind that I will make changes but this is a trial run. I am also still working on my title.
Okay…here we go!

“ON FOREIGN SOIL”
by Sherri Robinson
Introduction or Prologue
Her knees were burning under the load as she ran for cover in the alley way. “Darn this extra weight,” she thought as she struggled for air. When her heart could beat no faster and her lungs were bursting she slipped. As quickly as she hit the pavement the lights went out. When she came to, she was surrounded by faces she didn’t know and they were saying things in a language she barely recognized. She had only taken one semester of it in High School and somehow the romance of the French language with the guy in the desk behind her was now lost to confusion and pain. Elana had no memory of where she’d been or what had happened except for the few short moments before she blacked out. The cold damp wetness on her face reminded her of the wretched winters in the north when she was a child. She always hated how the sleet stung her face walking to school and that she wouldn’t thaw out til Spring. It was like that now but what bothered her most was why she had been running? She faded in and out of unconsciousness for the next seven days. The same amount of time that it took her to tour Paris and hit every landmark she had dreamed about since that H.S. French class.
Each time she awoke he was there looking down at her…an angel, a god. He was pretty. Maybe she had died and he was her own personal guide to the pearly gates. She would never be that lucky though and pain in her head was a guarantee that if she was in the afterlife she would be in hell. It’s just as well. There must be a life she had to get back to….if only she could remember it. She moaned. Pain seemed to be the only thing these people understood. A young woman dressed in white appeared carrying a large syringe. Elana closed her eyes and tensed her body and waited for the stabbing but felt….nothing….nothing but relief. Opening one eye she quickly scanned the room to see where the the noise came from. The face that had given her comfort and the best unconscious dreams possible was crouched over her again. Clearing the cobwebs from her throat she spoke hoping that he just might speak enough English to understand her. “Where am I?” “You are in the hospital in Paris, Madame, but do not worry. We are taking very good care of you. We will talk when you are stronger.” Sitting up with a start, she said, “No, now! We will talk now. I am strong enough. I have to know…please. What happened? Do you know? Please, you have to help me. I feel like something terrible has happened. Am I in danger?” Madame, take it easy. You are safe. We are looking into things. It is best that you just rest now, but first can you can tell us your name and where you are from?”

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