(No Title)

Several of you have asked what happened after the first shoe dropped, as excerpted several entries below. Here is a partial answer: When the second shoe dropped, we gasped in fear, and it was the last breath we took or sound we made for several seconds. My eyes asked hers a lifetime of questions, though, like what is happening, who could it be, and what should we do now? Diana sprang noiselessly from the bed, leaped across the room and turned the lock on the bedroom door. She lifted her desk chair and easily wedged it under the doorknob. I wondered then if she'd rehearsed an eventuality like this, for once she took action, she never stopped to question the effectiveness of her procedures. She flew back to the bed, where I sat huddled by myself, and flung her arm under it until she found the object of our hope. She grabbed the fire escape ladder, and yanked on my paralyzed arm until I submitted to her leading me on tiptoe across the room to her private bath. "Now!" she hissed. "We're getting out of here!" As we scurried into the bathroom and locked this second barricade, knowing full well that the thin doors and elementary hardware would be child's play to an experienced criminal, we heard him trying the locks on the first door, and then banging and murmuring in muffled tones, and finally trying to beat the door down. I pictured Diana's family practicing their fire drill, and wondered if they'd ever thought they'd have to use it in a real fire or, worse, to flee a predator. She threw open the double-hung window, attached one end of the ladder over the ledge, and let the rest of it fall toward the welcoming ground, two stories below. And then, as she was directing me to climb onto the toilet and over the ledge, she reached one hand into the tissue box and pulled out the scariest knife I've ever seen. The last thing I remember before we hit the ground running was hearing a man's voice crying out Diana's name. She kept running like she hadn't heard a thing.

Posted by Katy on 11/28/01 at 11:23 AM

Fallible Comments...

that's how it often goes, eh? i love writing. :)
Posted by bethany on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM
Bethany--If I only knew. I'm sure it'll come to me! I might need another 50,000 words, though.
Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM
whoa... cliffhangers all over the place! what happens next?
-----
Posted by bethany on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	(No Title) Several of you have asked what happened after the first shoe dropped, as excerpted several entries below. Here is a partial answer: When the second shoe dropped, we gasped in fear, and it was the last breath we took or sound we made for several seconds. My eyes asked hers a lifetime of questions, though, like what is happening, who could it be, and what should we do now? Diana sprang noiselessly from the bed, leaped across the room and turned the lock on the bedroom door. She lifted her desk chair and easily wedged it under the doorknob. I wondered then if she'd rehearsed an eventuality like this, for once she took action, she never stopped to question the effectiveness of her procedures. She flew back to the bed, where I sat huddled by myself, and flung her arm under it until she found the object of our hope. She grabbed the fire escape ladder, and yanked on my paralyzed arm until I submitted to her leading me on tiptoe across the room to her private bath. "Now!" she hissed. "We're getting out of here!" As we scurried into the bathroom and locked this second barricade, knowing full well that the thin doors and elementary hardware would be child's play to an experienced criminal, we heard him trying the locks on the first door, and then banging and murmuring in muffled tones, and finally trying to beat the door down. I pictured Diana's family practicing their fire drill, and wondered if they'd ever thought they'd have to use it in a real fire or, worse, to flee a predator. She threw open the double-hung window, attached one end of the ladder over the ledge, and let the rest of it fall toward the welcoming ground, two stories below. And then, as she was directing me to climb onto the toilet and over the ledge, she reached one hand into the tissue box and pulled out the scariest knife I've ever seen. The last thing I remember before we hit the ground running was hearing a man's voice crying out Diana's name. She kept running like she hadn't heard a thing. Posted by Katy on 11/28/01 at 11:23 AM Fallible Comments... that's how it often goes, eh? i love writing. :) Posted by bethany on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM Bethany--If I only knew. I'm sure it'll come to me! I might need another 50,000 words, though. Posted by Katy on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM whoa... cliffhangers all over the place! what happens next? ----- Posted by bethany on 12/31/69 at 12:00 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: (No Title) Previous entry: (No Title) << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri