(YES, Pep Band, baby!) 1,400 words in my EPIC-LY AWESOME new story, which I'm writing in because my attention span is WAY too short tonight to go for the fantasy. Well, maybe now after I've written in my new top secret MARCHING BAND YA Story!
Maybe I'll be ready. But for now, would you pretty please read some? Pleeeeeeease?
There comes a time, in the heat of the performance, when hearts start to pound perfectly in time with the beat of the drums. As if the bassline is pulsing for the band, and if the tempo slips – even the slightest bit – every single performer will fall to the ground, lifeless. Death is always just a misstep away.
But meanwhile, life is dazzling, as electrical as it is unbearable.
And even though the season ends, the winter basketball games start, finals loom, and summer comes again, their hearts always seem to fall back into the old rhythm when the memories creep up. It was the end of summer, and Janie Sumson was one of the hundred and two music students looking forward to the beginning of football season – or, as they called it, marching season.
I MAY put more up later. Maybe. Whatdoyathink? Is it horrible? :( I've never written anything other than fantasy before, so I'm trying to be more down to earth... help?