1, 3
He took a final sip and read aloud, “In a land far, far away...”
Soon, an avalanche of ideas flooded his mind and he continued to write.
“...a convent was faced with the most unexpected thing they had ever encountered: their abbess had disappeared. As surprised as the rest of the nuns by her absence from the morning prayers, Sister Claire went to check on her personally. She knocked on the door several times, but there was no answer. A few seconds later, she opened the door to an empty chamber. The tocsin rang for the rest of the day as the whole congregation gathered to pray at the chapter hall."
“Nuns?” the voice said. “That won’t work...”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Samuel. You know the first page is crucial. It has to grab my attention.”
Samuel took off his glasses and dropped them on the desk.
“Ideally, you should have me biting my fingernails by the end of the first page and my toenails by the end of the chapter.”
“That’s disgusting,” Samuel said.
“Well, disgusting or not, it is what it is. Besides, I like disgusting.”
“Really? I thought you hated such things!”
“Not quite. Remember Sven Hassel’s novels? All that blood spurting out of arms and legs for the homeland/motherland?” the voice asked.
“What? But this is a different genre! I refuse to chop up nuns just to get your attention.”
“Who says you have to?”
“You do,” Samuel said.
“Then you’ve got me all wrong. Have another cup of tea and think about it.”
“I just had one!”
“Then go grab something to eat. I can hear your stomach from here.”
Samuel reluctantly got up from his chair and went to the kitchen. He took an apple from the fruit bowl and stood there, biting it. Then he hurried back to his desk.
“Let’s make a deal,” he said, tossing the apple into the trashcan.
“What kind of deal?” the voice asked.
“A very simple one: you let me write this story without chiming in, and when I’m done with the first chapter, we’ll go over it together. What do you say? Deal?”
“Umm... I don’t know... Can I read as you write?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No, not really.”
“Then there’s no need for discussion.”
Without wasting any time, Samuel took a notepad from the shelf, went into the living room, and lay down on the sofa. His legs felt much better stretched out. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and continued writing.
“Twenty-four hours after the abbess disappeared...”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
