Some awesome people pointed out a few spots in the book where I was lazy (though they were too nice to say that), so I'm going back to fill those spots in... which means going into more detail about one of my great fears - drowning. I hate drowning. Water is scary. But also beautiful:
“Emily,” she called again, but she was too far away, and the girl never resurfaced. Thornton looked back and saw her husband on the way in a motorboat. She kept swimming until she got to the spot she thought she’d seen Emily go under. She dove into the water over and over. Below the surface, she descended through layers, each greener and colder and murkier from suspended sediment than the last. Decaying plant matter caressed her face as she tried to force her eyes to penetrate deeper into the darkness, but Emily left no trail, no bubbles, no trout darting away from her body dropping way, way down past 500 feet, to the bottom of the lake, where the old mining town of Ruby Creek, flooded when the dam went up, lay rotting somewhere in the water. Thornton looked back toward the surface and could barely see the light. She heard deep, warped, and muffled voices calling for her, glanced back down, then kicked up, inhaling a huge gulp of air as soon as she breached the wall between sea and sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment