Ugh. Feels.
I’ve finally written a scene in my wip that hits me and seems real and my characters FINALLY have some depth and I just want to celebrate and share. After 16,000 words of ‘blah’ this is the first moment the first draft has felt worth it to me. I’ll share a little here, hopefully, it makes you feel a little as it made me feel a lot.
June took another swig, closely followed by a third and looked over to see Tarrick looking at her, his head slightly tilted. “What?” she asked, her mouth set hard, bottle of wine resting on her thigh, her hand gripping it tightly about the neck. Tarrick didn’t reply, just continued to look at June and she saw a pool of empathy in his eyes. Was that pity? June sighed and rolled her eyes, looking away as she took another long draught of her wine. To her surprise, Tarrick jumped across to her tree and set himself on the bough next to hers. They were beside each other, each with their backs to the tree and legs out in front of them. June couldn’t see his face, didn’t want to, and it would have been uncomfortable to turn to look at him anyway. His shoulder was near to hers, and she felt it’s warmth as he strapped himself to the same tree. “Not enough trees in the forest for you?” she asked. She wasn’t sure why this strange, small man would be interested in strapping himself to her tree but she found she didn’t much care either. Tarrick just shrugged and pulled his own bottle of wine from his pack. He took a long swig and offered it to June. She took it and gave him her own bottle. She liked his better. She kept his for herself, and he continued to drink from the bottle she’d exchanged. Tarrick didn’t speak, merely sat beside her, drinking for a time as the rest of the group ate and drank nearby. After a time it grew cold around the group as the night settled in, and eventually Kit, Seth, and Elaine drifted off to sleep. “You loved her very much,” Tarrick said softly. So quiet June was hardly sure she’d heard it. Her head was thick from the amount of wine she’d drunk, and she sat and contemplated a while before responding. An hour ago, and sober, she’d have been insulted by the comment. That a basic stranger dared discuss the vulnerability he’d witnessed the day prior, but now she couldn’t summon the strength to care. “I did.” She said. More silence. “There is no other emotion that comes close to resembling loss.” Tarrick said. Still soft, but a little louder now. “It’s new.” June said, looking down at the bottle in her hands, thumbnail raking over the edge of the label. “This feeling - it’s new.” She said, “When Dad died, I grieved, I loved him and I lost him but he was sick for such a long time. With May… I lost her so swiftly. I lost her without knowing it was coming, whilst gripping so tightly onto the hope that she’d made it. That she hadn’t been trapped. I just-” June’s voice broke and she grit her teeth, willing herself to regain composure. Tarrick shifted slightly, and his shoulder closed the small gap between them. Whether accidental or intentional, June found herself welcoming the contact. It was minor, barely intimate, but it was a token of support she’d not had hours ago. An hour ago she’d been entirely alone in losing May. Now, however, the weight on her shoulders lightened just a fraction.



















