I used a character from a vague concept Brian and I came up with about a year ago of a world where everyone has a "mutant" ability (yes, very X-Men). Over a couple of hours I wrote over a thousand words in a conversation between myself and "Solomon." I did intend to publish it here, but was more impressed with where it went than I thought I'd be, and now don't really want to share it with the public until I've fleshed it out some more in another exercise. So instead you get an excerpt and an updated word count. Sorry...
~*~
Solomon was a younger man than his name might make some assume. He had all the awkwardness of a twenty-something trying to behave as a grownup while still trying to discern what that even meant.
"Are you thirsty?" he asks, his hand on the beaten up refrigerator handle. "I have some cold water or I can make some tea."
"Water please," I respond, smiling to try and put him at ease.
"Okay, have a seat at the table. Anywhere is fine."
The apartment is dim with a brown color scheme touching everything from the rough floor to the aged windows. Even the art on the walls has a burnt sienna look. Despite the cold outside, Solomon's home is warm, like most homes of those who can manipulate heat. The brightest light shines above the dining table, carefully set with mismatched dishes and flatware.
"I made us a pot pie, sort of," Solomon says, handing me a glass. "I didn't have enough of anything to make a main dish or sides, but it usually comes together in a pie all right."
"At least it smells good," I respond. The aroma of pastry and something savory wafted into the dining room from the kitchen with the young man.
"We're about ready to eat," he said. "I took it out a few minutes ago to cool."
I take a seat on the longer side of the table, near the place setting at the head. The chair wobbles a bit and creaks with my weight, but holds fine.
~*~
Word Count: 1,514
Month Word Count Total: 3,029
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