There had been a few dings out there in the seven years we'd lived on Wellowteme Crescent. At least two a year. Most recently a young lad in a Honda Civic not slowing down enough for the junction had clipped the back end of a Citroen C1 driven by an older lady who had the right of way. The problem was the faded paint markings, which regularly caught out the uninitiated. Three winters ago a guy rolled his van over the grass triangle. Ironically there was black ice and he was going way too fast, and he obliterated the gritter box. The fire brigade had to cut him out of the van. He lost a leg I think. Was another life being turned upside down this very moment?
Friday, 7 February 2020
Extract Friday (1 of 3)
Since I started writing this novel last week I have hit the grand figure of 16000 words. I am aiming for 30000 as a completed first draft but I think I may go a little north of that based on where I am and how much is left to write. Anyway, here is my first extract, very carefully selected so as not to give too much away...
Extract from The Tolworth Beacon
The bedroom of this flat, number 25b, looked down onto Wellowteme Crescent and a triangle junction with Chalkweald Avenue; the triangle itself little more than a raised patch of grass with a faded yellow gritter box on it. As I examined the view I was expecting to see the results of a car collision. I should have known better, because if anyone knows what a car crash sounds like it's me.