…a night of stumbling but successful creativity. Like Ben and his fumbling relationship with Hannah, I find myself passing 148 pages and the 40,000 word mark. And thanks to Karin, Signý, Tom, Kathy, and a wee glass of 12 year old single malt whisky, I found my way through the first evening back in Reykjavik and into a night of sweet dreams…
Current wordcount: 40,131
Helen turns over, tugging the covers in. She looks out across the room, through the half-light of night. Her brother is in the bed opposite.
“Ben?” she sounds out his name.
Again, she repeats his name, “Are you awake?”
Ben lies, facing the wall, eyes open. This time he answers, “Yeah… Helen?”
Helen sucks on her lip, “I think she knows.”
Ben sniffs. He gives his head a slight shake, he’s seen it too, “She’s sharp, our mother.”
Helen sighs, falling back on her back she stares up at the ceiling.
“She’s going to find out.” Ben turns over, propping his head on his arm, he looks across the dim interior at his sister in the opposite bed. His mind spins with further things to say, but his mouth says none of them. He just lies there on his side, staring out, and thinking.
Silence lingers. Outside, cars move on the road, their headlights occasionally penetrating the gloom of the room before sweeping back out into the night.
“So you and Hannah then…”
Ben stumbles over silence, “Yeah.”
“Who’d have thought?” Helen turns her head and looks over at Ben, “My little brother, all in love…” she grins.
Ben bites his lip. Love? Is that what it is? He turns inward to consider the evening, and map out possible futures. Again silence lingers in the air.