This is the second page of the novel I am currenlty working on, The Deal Breaker.
The first page was posted somewhere quite a while back- basically what happens in the first chapter is she tries to get her cat's urine tested for pregnancy. So that brings us up to this:
I returned home and Shirley brushed herself against my leg. I gave her a scratch behind the ear, but frankly it wasn’t the same with us lately. She was such a good cat, so affectionate. We were inseparable. She slept beside me every night. And every morning when I had my coffee she would lick the cream off the top when she thought I wasn’t looking. She always ended up with a little spot of whipped cream on the tip of her nose. It was so cute. I could never get mad at her when she looked at me with those huge eyes of hers and that little spot of cream. But now there’s no more frolicking over a cup of Joe in the morning. Suddenly, a few months ago, everything changed. She started staying out all night, not returning home for days sometimes. And then when she would come home she would hide out in some closet somewhere and sleep steady for days. I feel betrayed by her. Have I not given her a good cat life? Oh, I know I buy the No Name cat food instead of the luxury stuff, but she’s never complained about it before. And now she’s out there, tramping around, turning her back on me completely just for some rumble in the alley with a greasy Tom Cat. Frankly, I was disappointed that she turned out to have such weak morals.
And then I think, I have only myself to blame for this. It’s a classic tale of teenage rebellion, looking for love in all the wrong places because of a perceived lack of it at home. But it wasn’t my fault that I’m been so busy with school, I argued to myself, trying to assuage the mounting guilt. A degree in molecular physics doesn’t just fall on your lap. You have to want it, to work for it.
All right. I’m not studying for molecular physics. I don’t even know if that’s a real thing. If it is, it sounds pretty brutal. It’s just that it sounds a lot more impressive than Roman Civilization. And lately some people had been giving me a hard time about my major, saying that it’s a complete waste of time to get a degree in Roman Civ. But the truth is, I can hardly help it if I have a passion for ancient civilizations.
Someone told me long ago to follow your heart when you choose your classes. Take the classes that appeal to you, and you’ll end up in a job that you genuinely enjoy. I guess that was pretty crap advice, though. Because now I’m six years into University and headed towards a degree in Roman Civilization, which people say won’t really translate into any kind of a job. And I guess that may be true. I have yet to see an ad in the paper for a Roman Civilizationist.
Piss or get off the pot. That’s what my dad so eloquently told me. If I don’t finish my degree this year, he’s not paying my tuition next year. Piss or get of the pot. Sheesh. I’ll tell him to piss or get off the pot. He’s the one that’s been working the same construction job for thirty years.
So what if he owns the company. That’s not the point.
Anyways, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can’t support myself. I have a perfectly good job working at Mr. Spiffy Wonder Wand Car Wash. True, it doesn’t pay that well. But money isn’t everything. There are plenty of other perks.
Well, actually, it’s pretty cruddy all around. But we do get free car washes.
Well, actually, we’re supposed to pay for our car washes. Our boss expects us to use ‘the honor system’. What this really translates to, though, is “I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me.” Thus, we get free car washes, which is a pretty good perk when you think about it, although in the winter I don’t really like to wash my car, because the locks freeze up and that.
But still…
It adds up.
Sort of.
1 comment:
Sounds like it shall be a thriller this one...scare a minute, hold your breath in your throat, keep the lights on. Lovin' it so far!
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