R.I.P. Stan Lee

Stan Lee Tributes As for, I am very sad in spite of him having a good long life. His Marvel universes were the landscape of my childhood and for that I'll be forever grateful.

I went to the writers group write in tonight. It was good. I should word war every time because I am SO competitive. Within 2 hours I had 2000+ words in.

I had more to say about the nano but I didn't even get home until quarter to 11 and my brain is mush. So have another snippet.

“I bet I can get all the splinters out.” Arria beamed, clacking tweezers.

At the word splinters, Zvon’s head swam. Between the anti-vermin dunking, sweet soap and soft new clothes, he’d nearly forgotten the splinters in his arm.

“You okay?” Arria grabbed his arm, thumping it down on the table.

“A splinter cost me my hand,” he said, not wanting to confess to grave robbing in the process.

“That’s sad.” Arria squinted and started extracting the splinters.

They burned their way out as she pulled them. Her mother inspected her work before covering it with the salve and a dressing.

“That should do it. My magic doesn’t run to healing,” Tanyth said, “Nor does Arria.”

“Splinters make my stomach sour,” he muttered, glancing toward the windows. “When does this train leave?”

“Soon. Are you having second thoughts about leaving with us?” Tanyth patted his shoulder.

Did he? He realized yes, he did. He had followed complete strangers onto a train, ready to leave everything he had known behind. He started to shake.

Tanyth’s fingers closed over his shoulder. “You can stay, if you want. But if you want to come away with us, I’ll take care of you, you have my word.”

“He’s my dad, all I’ve got in the world.” Zvon tried to swallow past his tight throat. “It’s scary leaving.”

“He was hurting you,” Arria said.

He nodded, mouth dry as grave dust. “I know. He always does when he’s drunk. He’s drunk a lot. What’s he gonna do when I’m gone?”

20153 / 50000 words. 40% done!