Eugenie's October

She spent most of it rushing from one store to another, trying to convince the tight-faced designers inside that they should send their rejects with her instead of throwing them away. Eugenie was a small woman with dark and a pixie chin, who both suited her name and did not deserve it. She took the clothes down to the Salvation Army where she volunteered and set them out on the slow days, always in the late morning so the hipster students would still be in school. Then she hid behind the tall register and smiled as the woman with three children clustering around her cart and one still crouching in her womb discovered a pink chiffon dress with a slightly crooked hem. Her face was still lit with happiness when she came to pay for it.

It was a good month.











(Well, look at that, something not NaNo related! Apparently churning out what I freely admit to be mostly substandard prose [with a better core than last year, but still with adverbs populating each line like craaaaazy] has led to semi-decent writing! It flew into my head out of nowhere, too.)

(Full disclosure: when I said "semi-decent," I was just trying to be good. I LOVE this. I am so pleased with it. And I really like Eugenie. And yes, I know I shouldn't talk about my stories, but yaaaaaaay! YOU [the impersonal kind] saw how little I've been writing lately. It feels so much better when I can type something creative.)

(I can't seem to shut up, can I? Anyways, this might be part of a little series, because I'm apparently not only incapable of being sensible enough NOT to do NaNoWriMo and concentrate on my classes, I feel the need to take up time writing something completely different as well. Argh to me.)

(Still want to do the series. All little bits like this, though.)