Wha-hoo! Off and running.
I'm a writer and this is my serial spot.
I'll add to it everyday, just a paragragh or two,
and comment on anything else relevant to the moment.
Hope you enjoy my ramblings.
The Un-Titled Serial
Sync wasn't used to all the attention. He tried to move away from the group. The cameras and reporter moved with him.
"How does it feel to be a hero?" said the red head poking a microphone at his face.
He looked around checking she wasn't talking to someone else.
"You saved a baby and her pregnant mother from incineration. How does it feel?" she persisted.
"It's good they're ok," said Sync.
The police said he could go. They'd taken his details and he wanted to leave.
Firemen had extinguished the fire. Smoke clogged Sync's nostrils. Screams from mother and baby echoed in his ears. His body was heavy. His stomach growled. His torn clothes needed replacing. He turned and strode toward his car down the street.
"Our modest hero is welcome to park his car in my drive-way anytime he wants," he heard the red head tell her camera-man.
Sync flushed and kept walking.
If only they knew.
by Diane L Wood