Throwing Plans Out the Window
“Mom wouldn’t like you ignoring me.” Silence. “You should be flattered I based a character off of you.”
Matt dropped the boards he was carrying beside the carriage, the clatter and thunking echoing through the tight alley. He side-eyed his brother before kneeling to return to his project. Fixing an old west carriage with a Hydra bite.
He tries to do something nice for his free-loading, head in the clouds younger sibling. And his reward? Being trapped in that same brother’s novel in a town with no electricity or indoor plumbing. He wanted out.
Now.
Consuming Fiction Through Firsthand Encounters
Matt glared at the plate, unseasoned turkey and crumbly stuffing falling over the sides. He despised the misshapen fork he’d used the last week, loathed the wooden inn that reminded him where he was.
The table jostled, food spilling. Greg made more of a raucous when he planted a leatherbound book in front of him. “You won’t believe this.” He threw the cover open and adjusted his glasses. “The town of Whifflemore was founded in 1153 by Commodore Whiffle and his partner, Trevor More.” Elation colored his pale cheeks while his lanky limbs danced wildly. “They have history books of everything I developed for my story!”
Turning Imagination into Living Realms
Clattering. Clacking. Screeching.
Matthew pulled the pillow tighter around his head, burying his face in the stuffy sheets. Just an hour of peace. That’s all he desired.
A massive crash and a squeal of fright.
He groaned. Rolling out of bed, Matt dragged his calloused hand across his stubble-ridden cheek. The door slid open to a darkened hall, light streaming through a crack further down. Pillow grazing the dirty floor, he trudged to Greg’s study.
At least, that was the intended purpose.