(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.
Fuck!
My stomach
growled in agreement.