November 18, 2014 November 18, 2015
It's another #throwbackThursday and I'm sharing a blog post from last year on November 18, 2014. I was sharing a nanowrimo update with the readers of my previous blog. I wasn't too thrilled with my progress at that point, but I'm happy to say that as of the writing of this post, I have exceeded the 30k word count! Woohoo! On the other hand, I'm not too happy with the content, as a whole. There are a lot of changes that I will be making...just not yet. Well, here's last year's post...
There you have it ladies and gentlemen, my word count is 11,253. Okay, so I'm not doing so great with my nanowrimo project. But have I given up? Not quite. I've actually reverted to working on another project that I was completing prior to nanowrimo. And that's what I'm going to share with you today. So before you bash me read on...
EXCERPT FROM A WOMAN'S CHOICE:
I was sitting in my husband’s hospital room reading a book early that Sunday morning when the door opened. I sat on the left side of his bed, surrounded by flowers and hidden by the bed, which was lifted high. I couldn’t see the person who entered the room, which was unusual. Whenever anyone walked in I could often see their head and chest above the bed. But as I listened I heard a distinct noise. Suddenly it dawned on me when the squeaking stopped that it was the sound of a wheelchair.
I rose slowly from my seat by his side and walked around the bed. I was still unseen as I stood there with a look of disgust on my face. I took in the light skinned woman, whose skin was the color of creamy coffee. She wore her long, brown hair in a wavy braid down her back. She was bent over in a wheelchair with her head lying on his bed. Her shoulders shook as she cried. I chose not to say a word, not because I wanted to give her a private moment with my husband, but because I needed to gather my thoughts.
I remained that way for almost two minutes and I couldn’t take it anymore. “Kendra?” I had never met her or even seen pictures of her before, but I knew who she was.
She turned her head around, with her eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m Ambiance, Eric’s wife.” I stood with my arms folded across my breasts, my face lined with fury.
She sniffed, wiping her arms on the sleeves of her robe. “I know who you are. Can I just have a moment with him please?” Her voice was somewhat deep, what most would probably call sensual. I couldn’t believe she had the gall to ask me if she, his mistress, could have a moment alone with my husband.
“Don’t you think you’ve had more of them than you were entitled to, Kendra? I always thought about all the things that I would say to you if I ever met you. I wondered what you looked like, what you offered him that I couldn’t, and so many other things. And now that I see you, I’m not impressed at all. Actually I feel sorry for you. A woman who can’t get her own man and has to sink to the level of sharing another woman’s man is no woman at all in my book. You have no self-respect, no love for your fellow sisters, and no self-worth. I pity you because until you’ve learned how to love yourself you can’t truly love anyone else. And don’t tell me you love yourself because if you did you would have placed yourself in a much better situation than this. You have to settle for his leftover love,” I spat out at her in anger.
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