Wednesday Words: Never Forget

Given current events, today’s #1lineWed theme of **REMEMBRANCE, MEMORIAL, HONOR** seems a bit ironic because the dead I choose to honor and remember? Well…anyway. I’m still angry so I’m redirecting it. The idea came to me Monday night as I was trying to fall asleep, the opening playing over and over in my head. So I sat down Tuesday morning and wrote this. I don’t know if I will ever finish this book but I can damn sure work on it when I need an outlet because the main character is angry too. I think you can get an idea of the set up from this snippet. And I can tell you that she will remember, memorialize, and honor her dead.
Chapter 1

“Not guilty.”

The courtroom erupted. First, a wave of sound—shocked gasps. Then shouts of disbelief followed by the judge banging his gavel. The defendants hugged and slapped each others’ backs before doing the same to their attorneys, all of them grinning. No. Smirking. A few jurors looking guilty, the others showing signs of smug relief. Through it all, the woman in black sat on the front row of the gallery, right behind the prosecution table. Her face remained blank but her eyes missed nothing.

The district attorney, who hadn’t showed in the courtroom until time for the verdict and had played no part in the prosecution of this murder case, turned to her. He opened his mouth but snapped it shut as her gaze pierced him. He glanced, nervous now, at the defense table. The defendants’ knowing eyes rested on him. He turned toward the bench, waiting for court to be adjourned.

The courtroom cleared, but the woman in black remained in her seat, hands clasped in her lap, her face still blank.

Fourteen months.
Thirteen days.
Twelve jurors.
Eleven witnesses.
Ten pounds.
Nine indictments.
Eight weeks.
Seven cops.
Six defense attorneys.
Five hours.
Four defendants
Three dead.
Two seconds.
One judge.

The bailiff cleared his throat. She didn’t look at him as she rose. She ignored the reporters flocking like vultures in the hallway of the courthouse, their shouted questions bouncing off the shield of her cold control. Outdoors at last, standing on the granite steps of this alleged sanctuary for justice, she paused. Her eyes flicked across the big man standing at the bottom of the steps, his hip leaning against the base of the statue depicting Lady Justice. Arms crossed over over his chest, he watched her.

The horde of sensationalism-seekers hounded her, crowding the steps she would have to navigate to escape. Turning her attention to the reporters, she looked each one in the eye with such intensity her gaze left them unsettled.

“I will honor my husband’s memory,” she began.

The doors opened behind her and the men who’d blown her world apart breezed out, laughing like they had not a care in the world. They started to hassle her but the ferocity of her promise shut them up.

“I will never forget.” She stared for a moment, fixating on each man. Then she turned, dismissing them, and stepped down. The reporters scattered before her regal descent.

“Gonna have to take care of that,” one of the men muttered. “The sooner the better.”
Not sure any of us are writing much these days but if you have words to share, please do. Crawling back into my writer’s cave now. I have a new release to prep.


About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of several award-winning series--Moonstruck, Nightriders MC, The Penumbra Papers, and Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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4 Responses to Wednesday Words: Never Forget

  1. Ooooooo, I got tingles. Excellent snippet, Silver. If you finish it, I’ll definitely read it. Hell, if you post more snippets of it, I’ll gobble those down, too. Good job!

    The only memorial words I have to share is the original beginning of Accidental Death.

    She stood alone by his grave, as he would have wished. No other mourners bore witness to the box being slowly lowered into the ground. No flowers proclaimed his passing.
    St. Anne’s was holding a memorial service on the other side of town, presumably so the good citizens of Serenity could say their last farewell to the city’s now-deceased manager. They’d begged her to come, but he wouldn’t have wanted them to gather in remembrance. Out of respect for his wishes, she’d politely refused their impolite insistence. When she drove by the church, large signs announced their service for him, the way the corner grocery store announced a sale on toilet paper. The only difference was: the store was at least sincere in their sentiment, and toilet paper at least served a purpose. There was no purpose in a memorial service given by the upstanding citizens of a town that had driven her husband to an early grave.
    Long after his coffin was covered with freshly turned earth, she remained staring at the place where her heart lay buried, feeling like she could only leave the place if she consented to leave the best parts of her behind. It wasn’t something she was willing to do. She wasn’t sure if it was ever something she’d be willing to do.

    There’s more, but I didn’t want to overload your comments. Maybe I’ll post it to Outside the Box.

    • Silver James says:

      Oooh! ACCIDENTAL DEATH. And ironic about the “sale on toilet paper” in this new abnormal. I loved this book. ❤ I may have to take the time to reread it! And hey, good on me for giving you an idea for a post. 😉

  2. Kimber says:

    Gave me Goosebumps, Silver.

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