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The wanderer returns (maybe)

October 21, 2012

ImageI have a thing to blog, so here I am. No questions asked or answered.

I’m participating in Nanowrimo again this year, and getting in the spirit with some free-writing exercises. I’d like to introduce, Tomtom, one of my main characters:

It was getting dark.

Not very dark, not yet. Really, it was only just starting to get dusky. Even so, the shadows were beginning to be longer, and deeper. Tomtom did not like the wood so much now. He did not know the way back.

Mum and Ima had been just right there, the last time he’d looked, on the other side of that bush. But then he had become engrossed, watching a spider spin her web. He’d sat, silent and motionless, for a long time while she worked. He was good at that, at sitting, at being silent and still. Sometimes he thought he wasn’t much good at anything else. But the spider was enchanting. She had a soft-looking brown coat, she was mottled and fat.

And when he had come to himself, he had looked around for Mum, for Ima, and they were not there. A slight panic rose in his chest. He recognised it, and he knew what to do. He sat carefully, and breathed quietly, doggedly. When the fear subsided he could think.

He stood up and saw nobody. He reminded himself that Mum and Ima would not have left him here, alone. They would not go home without him. He noticed lights, off to the left, and walked towards them. That must be the cafe. He realised that the lights were on because it was late, and then he was glad about the darkness. They would be waiting there for him. He wondered if they were worried. He did not know. He did not think they should have left him by himself.

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