My current writing project, which is still in title limbo (call it Subliminal Debris for now), continues to take shape. Currently, its about 38,000 words and is probably two-thirds finished. Here is an excerpt from what I wrote during the past week:
Returning from a stroll to the corner store, Susan paused to watch a black dog that was frolicking in a small neighborhood park. Standing outside of the park, she couldn't help but smile smiled as she observed the exuberant animal bounding back and forth between the slide and jungle gym. She wondered where its owner was. It didn't seem to even be wearing a collar.
Squinting to try to see it better, Susan decided that the dog must be very shaggy because she just couldn't make out any of its features.
But the longer she looked, the more she had the feeling that there was something not quite right about the dog though. Susan leaned against the fence and watched for several minutes, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Then it hit her. The dog had no shadow. As it trotted happily to and fro, there was no shadow tagging along beneath it.
Susan frowned, knitting her brow in consternation. She knew that the prudent thing to do would be to get the hell away from here right now, but she hesitated. This felt like a puzzle that she needed to solve.
And then a second, even more disturbing, realization hit her.
It wasn't just that this dog had no shadow. This dog was shadow. It wasn't a black dog. It was a shadow dog.
This was wrong. This was very, very wrong.