06 April 2013

Dystopolis: 1.6











rost on the windows. That was what Adam remembered most about the day he met Zoe. She was standing in the department store he was rummaging through, and she didn't look at him when he spoke. He was surprised to see her inside the store - he had seen women like her from the corners of busy streets, but that was the first time he'd seen one of them from inside, and so out in the open.

Adam had never felt comfortable around women, but she was, of course, easy to take home. And, as Adam explained to himself as they went back to his house, his intentions were pure.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to - well, I suppose you haven't either - for a long time." Zoe looked straight ahead. "My home is quiet, the streets are quiet, everything's quiet." She was no different, really, but at least there was company. "And after all," he thought, "she can't have much experience in conversation, or in the friend department."

That was months ago, and not much had changed. Zoe liked to sit in the window-seat overlooking the garden, and even though she was there every morning when Adam woke, he still felt alone.

"Zoe! I brought the generator! Hot baths and hot food again!" Her long fingers held an unlit cigarette, and her martini glass sparkled in the sunlight. She was still. Her golden hair stirred as Adam walked by, and he kept talking. "The crows followed me home; they gave me quite a scare!" His hollow laugh echoed off the tiled floor and died. He wiped dried blood off his face and examined his cracked lenses.

Adam stared at Zoe's back. Her strapless dress wrapped itself around her, and Adam marveled at her perfect form. "I'll go get the generator hooked up." Zoe said nothing.

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Check out the rest of the A-Z crew here! And come by Monday for 2.1 of "Dystopolis."

Jump to 1.5, or start at the beginning!

Read the idea behind the story.

6 comments:

Jess * Jessie * Jessy said...

Oh my. I can't help but wonder if Zoe has eyes. I wonder if I'm missing the point some where, going off on my own with this story. I never was good at identifying symbolism and hidden meanings, etc.

When you said he didn't see women like that in the stores, I visualized women with their eyes pecked out. But you've thrown me now with the martini and the strapless gown. Seems like such a contract to your protagonist and what he's experiencing.

BTW, you do know, don't you, that everything we put on our blogs is considered 'published' and no editor or agent will be interested in it. Just wanted to make sure you're aware of that.

Don't know what kind of agent you're looking for--one that handles secular or Christian works but thought I'd share these two with you. They handle Christian material but even if you don't write that, they're blogs are very informative.

http://stevelaube.com/

http://macgregorliterary.com/

And here's a list of all agents for Christian works.

http://michaelhyatt.com/literary-agents-who-represent-christian-authors.html

Jess * Jessie * Jessy said...

Contract should be CONTRAST. Sorry, my fingers get ahead of me!

James R Tate said...

Didn't I say not having someone to talk to makes you nuts? Now he's got a mannequin sitting in his living room. I'm VERY interested to see what got his world to this point. Enjoying my daily visit.

Man O' Clay said...

Thanks Jess. I am considering pulling this from my blog and trying to sell it myself when April is all said and done...and yeah, I have a lot of it plotted out - at least I know how I want it to end - but each day brings something new!

And thank you for the agent links, I'll check those out.

James, and the things I think I have hidden away...

Jess * Jessie * Jessy said...

Wow! I never once thought mannequin. James is so smart or I'm really... We won't go there!

Have a blessed Sunday.
Jess

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

A mannequin isn't much better company than no one. Unless it comes alive like in that one movie.

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