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Friday, November 3, 2017

F³ Returning Heroes

(I am once again doing NaNoWriMo, so instead of our regularly scheduled F³, I will be posting bits of what I’m writing just to keep me on track. Hopefully, I’ll actually finish off a couple of WIPs [that’s work in progress to those of you not in the writer trade].)

The castle town erupted in cheers as Geoffrey rode in and waved to his subjects. Sarah beamed with radiant smiles and waved, too, from her perch behind him. Geoff’s horse pranced; not to be outdone, Ranger did the same, milking in all the adoration as if it belonged to him. I nodded and gave a few waves whenever someone yelled out a “Shamus!” or “Sir Sam!” It was all for show; I was giving ground in my fight against fatigue. My body and mind felt the weight of the journey, and now that we had made it to relative safety, I needed rest, and soon.
            Shower. I would kill someone for a hot shower and Old Spice bodywash. And food. I need some good food. Pizza. I really could use an extra large pie with pepperoni and mushrooms. God, I think I can actually smell it. Melted cheese and wood-fired dough. My mouth is watering.
            And then I realized I wasn’t remembering. I really did smell pizza. In one of the shops lining the main boulevard to the castle I saw a man holding up a pizza on a wooden board. It was sliced sausage instead of pepperoni, but it definitely was a pizza. I tried to edge Ranger that direction, but the crowd kept us corralled.
            I waved at the man, but he wasn’t looking my direction, his eyes on the prince ahead of me.
            “Hey! pizza man!”
            He didn’t look.
            “Hey! You with the pizza!”
            A boy next to him caught my wave then looked up at the man, then tugged on his shirt and pointed my way.
            The man saw me, and waved. “Sir Sam! Bringer of pizza!”
            “How much?” I pointed at the pie.
            He laughed and pointed at the pie, too.
            “How much?” I yelled, almost turning around in the saddle.
            He pointed at the pie again and then waved, not hearing me.
            My stomach growled in agreement.

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