Notched another three chapters on the Wet Work rewrite, although I had to cheat a little to do it, by including yesterday’s work in the total. Hey, Mondays are usually dead time for me, so I’m allowing myself to count it. Here’s Jeff Goldblum to explain:
Anyway, Magic Meter now stands here:
And hey, it occurs to me that I should be doing snippets. Here’s one:
From behind her, Galatea said, "Where do you get your money from, Emily?"
One hand on the door, Emily stopped in her tracks.
Galatea spoke easily, as if she were discussing the weather: "You know, you’ve always been a cipher to me. You arrived in Omaha seemingly out of nowhere, and almost immediately founded The Bridge. That must have taken a great deal of liquid assets. And you were–what? Thirty years old at the time?"
She’d been twenty-nine, actually, albeit just barely. Emily held her place, her back still to Galatea.
"I’ve always wondered about that. After the incident at the cemetery, I decided I should look a little closer into your past. Do you know what I found?"
Rigid, Emily turned.
Galatea’s face was serene. "You don’t seem to have one."
I’m out.
