Day Thirty: My Fingers, Someone, Help my Fingers

Tired. This story is going crazy. Make it stop. I think I might have to keep writing through the night. Only one more day. Lord have mercy. My fingers are getting ready to fall off. Ahh hooo hoo!


Daily Goal: 2500

Today's (actually tomorrow's) Word Count: 3888

Surplus: 1388

J.W.B.: 6789

Excerpt. Do it to it.

"When they got back to the front of Bob's house, Jim followed him up the porch at his insistence. Bob walked in and began rummaging through drawers and files across the living room. The house looked a little messy, a little worse for wear, but Jim would not have picked a crazy person to live there. Bob kept true to his word of needing to always be moving, as he danced around the house, looking of something. Finally he held up a shining key and said, “Follow me!” and walked out the front door, again.
Motivated by pure curiosity more than anything, Jim tailed this strange man as he rounded his house, and walked down the grass hill beside it. There was a basement built in to the house, accessible by a door at the bottom of the hill. Bob pulled out the shiny key, inserted it into the door, and turned. The door clicked, and Bob pushed it open. Jim could not put his finger on it, but as they approached this door and Bob opened it, he grew nervous. Very much so. His anxiety only increased as Bob stepped in the dark room and beckoned Jim to follow with a silent, waving hand. Looking at the half moon window pane set at the top of the door, Jim heard the panicked thought in his head “If he traps me down here, will I be able to break that window and squeeze through?”
Jim followed him in.

A quick word about the impossibly beautiful woman in the picture below. Without Nicole's patience and encouragement, for a long time now, none of this would be possible. Thanks, pumpkin.