Strange Streets is up to 2,000 words, probably the most I've written (as far as writing fiction) in the last two or three months.
"I love the madness my life has become," he said sarcastically.
Anyway, James and Darcy have continued their foray into a very strange part of Carlisle, Pennsylvania and James is getting rather weirded out.
The first sample is here. Another new unedited sample follows. Enjoy.
“James, look!” Darcy pointed down at the stream that flowed under the bridge. “What is that?”
Floating lazily in the water, a large fish, similar to a Japanese koi, broke the surface and looked up at us. A part of me, some alien observer deep within my brain, nonchalantly noted that it had to have been at least six feet long and its purple scales with streaks of green formed a color pattern I had never seen on any other fish in this world.
“We need to leave, Darcy,” I repeated. “We need to go back. Now.”
Darcy ignored me. She stood alert, her gaze fastened on a shop on the other side of the bridge. She whispered something, but all I could catch were the words, “here before.”