Guess what Happened to Me Today?

My muse came up and bopped me upside my head with the climax from the next June n Peaches book, then ordered me to write it OR ELSE!  Having worked with the little feline tyrant before, I knew I didn't want the ELSE. Ruining this project by taking away the storyline is not what I want to do.

So I told Hunnybun the muse smacked me a good one (that's a quote by the way), and he nodded, smiled and said he'd leave me alone. He's such a good Hunnybun, I don't think I can ever deserve him, no matter what I do.

So I wrote, about 1,400 words. The second June n Peaches story, working title June n Peaches and Martha Too! (don't judge), has now begun. Shall I tease you with some of what I wrote today? I think I shall. *grin*

As usual, normal disclaimers apply*. Enjoy!

June woke with a headache. This wasn’t just a headache, mind you, and it wasn’t just a migraine either. This headache was an achiever, and it wanted to be the biggest, baddest headache June had ever experienced.
She moaned and brought her hand up to feel bandages wrapped around her forehead. Eyes flew open and she bolted upright at the memories, but dizziness made her sight swim, so she only got a grey formless blur. She could feel that she sat clothed on the edge of something that felt like a cot, her feet flat on the floor.
She moaned again, and her stomach threatened mutiny.
Deep breaths with eyes closed soothed the rebellion below, but did little for the pain above. With great caution, June leaned back until she felt the painted concrete wall behind her. The overhead light pricked her eyelids, which made the headache worse, so she ever-so-slowly moved her pounding head so it rested between her knees. It felt better that way.
Down there, the pounding eased with each breath. When the pounding lessoned to a dull roar, June tried opening her eyes again. This time she could see her tennis shoes and a grey-painted concrete floor underneath them. Her stomach even cooperated this time.
So far so good, she thought, let’s see about sitting up now.
That was dicey-er, but doable. With slow, deliberate speed, she achieved sitting upright. Her eyes took a moment to focus, like they had to do a system check, but they worked now and she learned she was in a tiny cell, with metal sink, toilet, and the cot she sat on. The walls, ceiling and floor were all painted uniform grey, including the one windowless door that faced her.
The sink reminded her she was thirsty. She stood and another dizzy spell made her put her hands to the walls, but this time it faded fast enough she managed to stumble the two steps to the sink. Nothing to drink with, but she cupped her hands under the spout to activate the sensor and cold water flowed. She slurped the delicious water until sated, then stood up. The dizziness was still there, but less than before, so she was improving.
She looked around for a paper towel, but finding nothing, she wiped her wet hands on her jeans and sat back down. There wasn’t any toilet paper either.
Despite the lack of evidence, proof that she had been watched came as the heavy door opened and a man in a DHS grey and black uniform ordered her out.

*These are raw words. No editing has been done. Your patience with my errors is appreciated.


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