Here’s an excerpt of my writing from the first week of Nanowrimo 2014…
Prologue: From the Sky
He bursts out of the sky in a ball of fire. I want you to picture that early morning winter sky. Clear for the first time after weeks of unrelenting rain. Maybe you’re outside walking your dog. It’s cold. Your hands are thrust deep into your pockets. Last night, coming home from Scott’s house you had felt the rain lighten and then let up all together. You put your umbrella away and stared up at that sky which was quickly filling up with stars.
And then this morning, you could see the sunshine outside. Your balcony was filled with it and you got the dog and your warm coat and headed out to the endowment lands out by the University of British Columbia. And it was there, in a clearing, that you just had to stop and look up at that huge expanse. You laid down in the grass, it felt cold on the back of your head but you didn’t care. Your dog licked your face and then lay down beside you.
You are a thirty year old woman living in a Vancouver with a dog and a boyfriend. You are a scientist and you are doing interesting research at the university.
This is a nice life I have, you think, staring up at that clear blue sky with just a few wisps of cloud on this cool and unusually sunny day.
It is the first of November. The rain of winter — that constant Vancouver drizzle — has begun. But today is sunny — today is a bright spot so you just lie there and breath the cool air in.
It smells like: pine needles, grass, dirt and wet dog.
Peaceful.
You lie on your back and think about Scott, about last night, about how careless he always is and how this makes you careful. How despite the fact that you sometimes feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest when you’re around him you can never express this.
But that’s love, you think. And it’s a miracle. It’s a grassy field on a sunny winter day and a dog named Quimby who you would do anything for.
It feels like: butterflies in your stomach and knowing that you could stay here forever.
It feels like: a low rumble. So low that you wonder if there is a train nearby. And then it intensifies and now it feels like the very air around you is moving and heating up.
You wonder if this is the big one — the overdue earthquake that’s going to devastate Vancouver, if it has finally arrived per its four hundred and eight year cycle. You wonder if geological retribution is finally at hand.
And then you see it: a ball of fire streaks across the sky. It moves slowly and you think that means it must be very high up. There is a long trail of smoke behind it.
The air around you is getting hotter and the ground is shaking more and more as the things arcs its way across your open piece of sky.
And then it’s gone, out of your sight behind the trees as you lie there in disbelief at what you have just seen. You jump up and start to run in the direction that the comet disappeared in. Your dog gives chase, tail wagging, bounding ahead of you, running down the trail. The air smells like sulphur and as you get closer you can see you can see smoke. There is a smell in the air of burnt pine needles and something else.
You get up and run in the direction of the smoke until the trail ends and then you stop for a second at the edge of the bush before plunging in. Slower now but soon you can see that you are following a tunnel of broken and burned branches and the smell of smoke is getting stronger and more pungent.
You arrive at the top of a ravine. Down below you, there is thick bush, and smoke billowing up, out of the bush. Your dog barks and then growls, his tail hung low. He looks at you and barks and whines as you start to pick your way down the steep slope. He is torn between his own fear and his instinct to protect you, to stay by your side at all costs. He barks louder now and seeing that you are determined gives up and plunges down the slope after you.
The hillside is steep and slippery and you grab branches and rocks to steady yourself, to keep yourself from sliding out of control all the way to the bottom.
When you get down to the creek your boots and jeans are covered in mud. Quimby follows you, his tail indicating how much he thinks this whole thing is a bad idea, but it seems foolish to turn around now so you start walking in the direction of the smoke. It’s thick now and you wonder if maybe the forest has caught on fire, but you think that probably everything is too wet.
And then, just like that, the smoke clears, the last of it rising up into the sky.
Ahead of you is a tunnel of broken and singed branches. The creek is dry and when you touch the rocks at the bottom of it your hand recoils at the heat.
You walk along the side of the creek, avoid the rocks, and you wonder if whatever this is had evaporated all the water in the creek with its heat.
And then you see him lying there. He is face down and covered in mud lying on the bottom of the creak.
Wisps of smoke still rise up from his body and he does not move.
You run over to him and in your mind you are trying to compose what you will say to the 9-1-1 operator without sounding like a lunatic.
You are very close to the man now and you can see that he is completely naked except for the mud and there is heat radiating off him.
You hold the front of your hand over his body to gauge if it’s safe and then put your hand on his neck. He is hotter than he should be, but you can feel a pulse and you can see his back rising and falling.
He smells like ashes and the metallic way that blood tastes.
“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”
Quimby comes over and sniffs the man. His tail still low and cautious.
You shake the man’s shoulder but he does not respond so you pull out your cellphone and call 9-1-1.
You’re still not sure what to say as the phone starts to ring.
“9-1-1, do you want police, fire, or a ambulance?”
Not expecting this question you’re not really sure what to say. You’re not really sure which emergency service would be best for this situation.
“Ambulance,” you say, thinking that the man’s health is the most important that the rest can be sorted out later.
“I’ll transfer you,” the operator says and then you hear the ringing tone again.
“Where are you located?” the new operator says.
“I’m in a ravine, in the UBC Endowment Lands — somewhere between 16th Avenue and 4th Avenue.”
“And what is the nature of your emergency?”
“There’s a man, and he fell out of the sky.”
