Excepting Ash Wednesday, when I was re-reading old material for new ideas, my goal was 1,000 words per day, average.  Today I’m at 8,217.  Better news:  it just may be that the plot is showing up!  A fringe character’s older brother just might be holding a grudge against the machines… and willing to EMP the planet to plunge the remnant of the world into another Dark Age.  Exciting times!

Just to thank you for stopping by, I put a little of the last week under the fold.  Have a good weekend!

Gary leapt up the few steps to Building B, their usual meeting place. Before entering, he finally sighed: the area was remote enough to be dead to signal. Today he was alone. He walked into the classroom.

“Hey, Gary!” Pat called. As host of the meeting he was also in charge. “Besides calculus, I got nothin’ about what to talk about today… and these guys…”

He waved at the six others. Pat had walked there.

“… have only come up with salacious ideas!”

Of course, he thought.

“I agree.”

They all turned to stare at him.

“Not your imaginary girlfriend again…!” Thomas began.

They’d scuffled once before. Gary wondered if a second was in order…

“Shut it, Thomas!” Pat did not want to lose control of their meeting. “What did you mean, Gary?”

“Romantic poetry.”

“Huh.” Barry spoke up. “You mean like Wordsworth and Coleridge?”

Barry was also a p-kid.

“No,” Gary replied. “I was thinking more about troubadours around the time of Aquitaine and Provence.”

“Ah. Some of those are tricky,” Barry said. “I’ll see if I can recall any while we wait for our last five before we start math.”

Satisfied they had a topic for later and that he was still in control, Pat started making mathematical notes on the chalkboard. Gary leaned his rifle with the others and took a seat.

Ninety minutes later, with everyone except Thomas intrigued by Gary’s idea, they went for three runs about the campus rather than dividing up into teams armed with Pat’s pellet guns like they usually did. As three others also had girlfriends, with Gary that gave them a faction of one third of the Brotherhood, and they were all interested in how to “better get them into bed,” as Jon quipped.

The sun was headed toward the western horizon when they began to finish up. Gary was rather pleased with what he had come up with. I hope Henge likes it!

Perhaps seeing the rare look of happiness was enough for Thomas to mutter, “enjoy banging your toaster…”

Gary stepped to him and slapped his face.

“Insult me all you want. Never my Intended.”

In the sudden tension Pat spoke up.

“Everyone outside. Gary and Thomas? Two falls out of three or a concession. Is this clear?”

“Clear,” the two boys answered.

The Brotherhood filed out and made a circle around the grass between the buildings and the retention pond to the northeast. The rules were well established: no weapons, no teeth; avoid eyes. Thomas was taking his boots off so Gary was obliged to do likewise. They faced one another. Thomas was two inches taller and about ten pounds heavier. Gary had been swimming since he was three so was in better condition.

And my karate lessons from Aunt Lily on Henge’s Beach…

“Begin!” Pat yelled.