Welcome to the first story excerpt. Please keep in mind that this posting is a "free write" (as most of the postings will be). This means it is in the first stage of the writing process: raw, unpolished, practically stream-of-consciousness. So spelling errors may be present, as well as awkward grammatical constructions. But here it is anyway, for your reading enjoyment.
Excerpt from "Home is Where the Heart Is", by The Night Writer © 2004
“So how’s the new mower working for you?”
Bill had been waiting for someone to ask, he broke into a big grin as he returned to the patio table with fresh drinks.
“Awesome! I’m so glad you helped me pick it out. I would have just bought the cheapest thing there. I thought a mower was just a mower, but you’ve shown me the light!”
He handed one of the drinks to Ellen as he sat down next to her. As the two men started yet another long, boring discussion, Ellen’s attention drifted to the yard. The mower really did do a good job, not that she really cared. And not that it would have mattered, anyway. A yard as big and beautiful as theirs would probably look good even if you went after it with a butter knife. All of it seemed to almost grow to perfection, as if the roses knew they weren’t supposed to get too bushy, that the hedges knew they were supposed to be square. As if the landscaper had read the “Growing Things Bible” to all the plants, and they were doing as told.
She smiled and sipped her drink. She and Bill were so lucky to have found this house, this town. It was almost a miracle, when you got right down to it. The town was small enough to feed her need for an “old-fashioned community” for raising their children, but close enough to the city that Bill could still get home from work before it was dark.
And the price! Ellen shook her head in amazement as she surveyed the beauty around them. The price was amazingly, incredibly low. The initial asking price on the house was almost $40,000 below market value, and Bill, always frugal, had put in an offer for ten thousand less than that! She complained, because she had fallen in love with the house as soon as they pulled up with the realtor. But Bill wouldn’t relent. “We can start low and go up,” he assured her. But it hadn’t been necessary. Less than 24 hours after they had signed the offer, the realtor called and told them it had been accepted. Ellen still hadn’t gotten over the shock of it all.
Vaguely, she heard Carl asking her something. “I’m afraid you caught me daydreaming,” she admitted. “What did you say?”
“I asked if you were looking forward to your first Field Day,” he smiled, and swirled the ice cubes in his drink.
She shot a puzzled look to her husband, thinking she must have missed more of the conversation than she thought. But he just smiled and shrugged. She looked back at Carl and asked, “I’m afraid I haven’t heard about the Field Day. What is it?”
Carl leaned farther back in his chair and rested his glass on his ample belly. “Field Day is our big community event. Surely you’ve seen all the flyers around town?”
Ellen vaguely remembered seeing a crop of flyers popping up lately on the lampposts, but had just assumed they were the usual summer garage sale and lost dog type of things.
“By Thursday, the committee will have all the banners and gaslights up. Friday night, the festivities begin. There will be lots going on: bands playing, jugglers, food booths, a pie eating contest. Mamie Sanderson even found a sword swallower!” He shook is head in amusement over this. “It’s our version of the old-fashioned county fair, but on a smaller scale.”
Ellen smiled. The idea of a Field Day just reinforced her feeling that this was exactly the sort of community she had been looking for.
