28: A Griddle Big as the Sky

Declaring the existence of something is a way to make me finish them. Here’s a chunk from the Giant Unnamed Fiction Project.

Weirder, Liberty could see Monterey’s face. Not much. But more than he had all night. A pallid glow from the east outlined Monterey’s angular chin and sharp nose. Distinct shadows filled his deep-set eyes.

A blotch of light marred the eastern sky.

Curiosity tugged Liberty to his feet.

The blotch cast a halo of shooting stars, radiating in all directions.

“Do you hear that?” Dreg said.

Insects buzzed. Something small rustled through the corn.

The fuzzy light was enough to see Monterey’s head shake.

Liberty was about to say no when a high-pitched whistle tickled his ears. More of a warble. Maybe a buzz? No, each second it picked up new notes, new resonances. Fingernails on slate. The grumble of a great engine, like the River Rouge Water Wheel but a thousand times bigger.

The hiss of water dropped on a hot griddle, if the water was the Detroit River and the griddle big as the sky.

Now that you know this thing is half finished, it’ll hopefully push me to get it ready to kickstart before 2025. Doable, barring debacle.