Wrote 2K words, thought I was done, got some tea , wrote 500 more. So, 2.6K total today. Not bad for a Saturday, eh? Here is the daily excerpt, because of course you're dying to read it. Beware, it's first draft, so it's mostly coarse nonsense. (I warned you.)
TUBE, DRAFT 1, CHAPTER 30 (EXCERPT)
Licking off tears, Olesya pushed forward, not so much running as hobbling. The brakes screeched, the beast came to a juddering stop, honked once, and reversed, stopping abruptly, as if waiting for her to come and see what it had done.
“Oh God, no. No-no-no.” She blubbered, not really understanding what she was saying. The first thing she saw was pumping blood staining the snow with crimson flowers. Her eyes shifted and paused on the mangled clump of clothes. Fine leather boots, the hem of a winter coat, the bottom half of it. Higher, on the other side of the rail that glimmered like the blade of a knife, more of the coat, the upper half, the warm knit hat. And two arms, flung out, groping for purchase, fingers dug into the raffle of stones between the ties. Red fingers. Fingers in red gloves.
“Lida...” Olesya heard herself say the name, unaware of how she was able to. Her heart thrummed painfully in her chest, and she saw dots, white swirling dots streaking across her vision.
The train had cut Lida in two, right through the middle, and the horrific sight etched itself into Olesya’s retina, refusing to leave even when she looked away.
Footsteps crunched on the snow.
“I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see it!” Masha’s voice, hysterical, and then the pounding of the fists. “Anyone there? Let me in! Do you hear me? I want to get inside!” More pounding, the sound of sniffling, and finally sobbing. “I don’t want to be out here, I’ll do anything you want, just let me in, please? Please, I beg you. Please...”
Olesya felt Mitya’s grip on her arm, heard him suck in the air. “My God.” His breath tickled her ear. She registered it and yet couldn’t make herself move. She thought she wouldn’t be able to move even if the train took off, if it threatened to hit her and maim her in the same way it did Lida. Nails, sharp iron nails fastened her feet to the ground, and it took an enormous effort to pull one of them up, then another. Like on stilts, Olesya stepped around the body and between the tracks, facing the locomotive, its ten round eyes.
They sized her up, waiting. Bleak luster of electricity washed her in light, its glow jaundiced against the grey mist of the approaching dawn.
“What do you punish me for?” Implored Olesya. “What did I do to you? What are you trying to tell me?” And as she said it, she understood. Hot water surged to her eyes. Her eyelids brimmed and spilled over. She reached over and touched the indigo-painted metal of the train head, dented and scored with deep scratches from clearing the boulders off the tracks.
“Olesya,” called Mitya worryingly.
She didn’t react, didn’t turn her head. She has detached herself from reality, her senses attuned to the machine in front of her, to the intellect, the mind inside it.
“You want me to feel your pain, is that what it is?” She asked. “You want me to share it with you, because there is nobody else who would understand it..."