WRITING MY OWN THRILLER, POST 19

Installment 19 of our featured novel “Relentless” is (finally) here! If you’ve missed the earlier installments and would like to join our readership, be sure to check out the novel’s home page HERE.

We are publishing the novel in small installments, so it takes only minutes to keep up with the story. Many years ago, we were fans of Stephen King’s installment-based publishing of “The Green Mile” over many months, so we are following in that vein as a feature on Moteventure.

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RELENTLESS – D.S. FACTOR

The public library of Grafton was a small, quaint building on the north side of town, modeled in the early 1900’s based upon the design of the country’s first public library a few hours north on Boylston Street in downtown Boston. With large moon windows spilling light into the great room and intricately carved arches above readers’ heads, the library was a popular spot for residents to study books but also study the obvious beauty beheld in its breathtaking architecture.

After an attempt to clean up her appearance a bit after the night she’d had, Abi still felt like she looked just a step up from being homeless. Nevertheless, she strode purposefully through the doors of the small library and made an inconspicuous beeline for the restrooms just inside the door.

Locking the door behind her, she slid her purse onto the counter next to the sink and slipped an empty plastic bag out from inside it. Next, she grabbed scissors from the purse and briefly glancing into the mirror, began to cut her long dark tresses into a shoulder length bob.

Having never been one to color her hair at home, Abi read through the directions in the box of Revlon Colorsilk she’d pulled from the Walgreen’s shelf, Mushroom Blonde to lighten the shade a bit but hopefully remain somewhat unremarkable to bystanders. She felt like she had the gist of the process and slid on the gloves that were provided with the kit. After mixing the two solutions together, she was forced to forgo sectioning her hair into four parts with a clip as the pamphlet suggested. She simply jumped into the process using the liquid like it was shampoo, working it through her hair from roots to tips.

Flipping her wrist to activate her Fitbit watch, she set a 20-minute timer. Although the box recommended 25 minutes, she figured she could use the five minutes to stay one step ahead of whoever was behind the past twelve hours of madness.

As she waited for the timer to tick down to zero, Abi stooped down, picked up stray strands of hair and other paraphernalia from the floor and stuffed them into the plastic bag to avoid any evidence should someone come looking.

With a few minutes left to spare, the bathroom door suddenly jiggled followed by a snappy rap at the door.

“Excuse me Miss. Are you alright?” the jiggler said.

“Uh, yes. Just a bit of stomach trouble it seems. I’ll be out in just a few minutes”, Abi responded as she rinsed her hair under the faucet, ripping open a disposable shop towel packet to dry her hair after applying the included conditioner packet.

Next, she pulled from her purse a bottle of dry self-tanning mist, covering any exposed skin, including her face, without reading the directions. Her fair skin transformed into a somewhat streak-free Coppertone tan, and in moments was dry to the touch.

Changing her eye color was simple with cosplay contact lenses, altering her bright blue eyes to a deep brown hue.

Lastly, she added a pair of common-looking Foster Grant non-corrective glasses to her look and stood before the mirror. Other than her disheveled outfit, she resembled what someone might say was her slightly edgier yet bookish younger sister.

Unlocking the door to exit, she was surprised to find the woman still waiting outside in the foyer area to use the facilities.

“So sorry dear to disturb you, but it seems my bladder isn’t quite the same as it was when I was your age.”

“I’m the one who should apologize. I’m feeling much better and thank you for your patience,” Abi replied as she attempted to navigate past the older woman.

Looking quizzically at Abi, the woman raised her eyebrows. “Not to second guess myself, but I swear you’re not the same person I saw going in there.”

Abi looked away, avoiding the security camera up in the corner, and simply said “everyone looks like someone, don’t they?”, and shuffled casually through the entrance doors and headed back to the car.

Leaving Grafton behind, the countryside was both picturesque and serene, a feeling Abi could truly appreciate after the ordeal she’d been through, and the continuing need to figure out what was going on and how she played a part in it, and also to get away from those pursuing her for as of yet unknown reasons.

Exhaling as she navigated up a hill on the highway, the presence of a black SUV cruising by her heading toward Grafton initially didn’t register, but then seeing in the rearview mirror that same vehicle screech to a halt for a three-point turn made her again accelerate the Rogue. “Fuck me. Here we go again.”

No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

daily prompt

WHICH ACTIVITIES MAKE YOU LOSE TRACK OF TIME?

I think of it as being “in the zone”, where time seems non-existent. For me, that could be nearly anything – from working on a project for my job to writing this blog to listening to my favorite music to binge-watching a really great show to enjoying a long-planned vacation. What about you? How do you lose track of time?

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