Dean Forrester had the ultimate life. He had money, he had women, he never paid taxes and most of his days were spent playing golf and drinking for free. He was prepared to live out the rest of his days like this - until one phone call from home ruined it all.

Friday, November 26, 2004

Shapes of white blur

Dean was dreaming of darkness. He was dreaming he was on the driving range he had just left with Sissy. It was night and he was at the far end of the green, the cheap houses looming behind him. Shapes of white blur would speed past him, but he didn't move.

OK, story is finished. Nano still requires 2,200 more words. I kinda new this would happen as I had more collapsing action than falling action. 2200 is pretty manageable though, especially since I have two or three scenes I'd like to add in.


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