Claustrophobic

"You weren't in high school."

"I didn't know I was in high school. I didn't go into a lot of tight places."

"Why not?" Dean turned his head to try look at the door handle he couldn't see.

"I guess because I'm claustrophic, dipshit, now open the damn door."

"Look, it's completely dark in here. You can't even see the walls."

"Doesn't matter."

"How can it not matter? You're afraid of what you can't see?"


Today was a close one. Didn't feel all that hot, late night last night (stayed up to watch scary Iraq footage, not good sleeping material). Long, slow day at work and a lot of time on the road. Not exactly a recipe for wanting to sit down and type any more. Finished yesterday with about a 400 word surplus, and almost ended today with not even getting that extra 1300 in. I think I'm at that point where it's hard not to examine every little detail and worry if everything is going to unfold, or come next Monday the story will either be stuck in a dead end or finished at like, 20,000 words instead of 50k.

Sissy and Dean came through in the end - the dialogue and introspection of Dean's initial homecoming worked out. It's not "good" per se, more like "readable". More importantly, it keeps the pace going without getting too far ahead. I'm stopping at 18,644 - which is just shy of tommorrow's goal, and I'm not even into Dean's first night.

I ended with the pantry scene, which was almost a bit I used instead of the tangents to flush out Dean and Sissy and decided not because it could actually fit into the story. And now that I've stooped to physical comedy - there is no low I'm not willing to reach for.