April 2008 Writer of the Month
Well, might I just be the first to publically state, on the record:
Holidays are over, so two weeks per person per chapter now.
Being back at school, you need but blink and another day has pasted. Reading now.
Like an Academy Award Nominee, Josh put on an act of indifference while he kept stepping back and fro between closet and bed.
Sounds like it's one step to, one step fro. Pasing, maybe?
Two black suitcases lay open on the comfortable-looking bed, gaping in all the clothes he poured in them: shirts, trousers, socks, boxers, and whatever belongs to a man's wardrobe.
Gaping at, maybe?
Her light skin made a stunning contrast with the wooden walls so dark they could only be called ebony. Weird name for a weird girl, thought Josh as he watched Banshee took the last steps that still parted them, her hair tangled heavily against her shoulders, still damp from the shower she'd obviously taken after the previous exercise.
Exercise? This is mainly from Josh's POV. He doesn't know about the activities in her past.
Josh reached out his hand, offering it for formal handshake or something but was instantly bewildered as she passed the extension and greeted him with a warm embrace.
A bit too undefined, too informal perhaps, for me...
"for something resemblig a formal handshake"?
He watched her to correct her posture for final plea,
a/the final plea
Don't throw your daughters away, making them pay for whatever I've done to you.
The phrase to throw away is used in contexts like "to throw your life away", meaning to ruin, to completely mutilate beyond repair. It may be a bit of an overstatement, even for an angry Lizzy...
If you leave me to do that, I'll swear I'll make you look such a bastard they'll never want to even think about you again.
I swear I'll
I like it, though a hint of surrealism seems to linger here and there. I guess that's not a bad thing per se.
< Message edited by gwoonjustin -- 8/27/2008 11:21:30 >