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Red Oak

Trying something new, please review my fiction excerpt!

     “Looks like y’all made yourselves a few friends around town,” Officer Soloman chuckled as he took a long drag off his cigarette. He examined the steaming charcoal reminiscence of land through his tinted shades. The stench of burning trees lingered in the atmosphere. Kneeling, he fingered the rubble and let the ash slip through his callused palms. There was nothing left of the young couple’s garden that was devoured by the devastating fire that erupted over dawn.

     “Did y’all do anything to piss anyone off?” The officer peered up his glasses at the fretting two, tall and striking, “Either of you smoke?” Soloman toyed with the burning tobacco between his lips.

     “No,” the wife articulated, “no, sir.”

     She stood in her heavy mud boots, strong, holding back tears over her blackened hard work. Nita stood by her belief that you get back what you put work into; but she wasn’t sure if Soloman had a code of conduct of his own. Her cinnamon owl eyes peered through the man’s charming demeanor. There was something about him that smelled suspicious. Maybe the scent was the cigarette, but he was not sitting right in Nita’s stomach. She watched as he fiddled with his cancer between countless smirks, growing increasingly more irritated as he ran the rubble through his hands like sand.

     “Well, it could be possible that this is your welcoming committee,” the older gentleman confessed, leaving behind streaks of black on the nape of his neck where he rubbed, “The Indians ain’t too fond of newcomers; at least not the tribals.”

     “But why would they destroy land? Isn’t that completely against their values?” The Husband appealed. He shook his shaggy, dark pecan braids, teased into mats, trying to rationalize the loss in his head. Just a glance at his wife gave away her pain. He laid a hand on his Nita’s broad shoulder and gave it a strong squeeze, “We’re going to recover from this. Let’s just be grateful everyone is okay.” With a small wipe, he brushed a beetle out of her apricot locks.

     Soloman brought himself onto his feet with a few groans here and there. All Nita could hear was the crunching of her land beneath his worn leather boots. She crossed her arms under her small bosoms, “Maybe it was one of those junkies living in that government funded community up the road. The Indians brought us a deer just a few days ago.”

     They even hung the head in my oak, she soothed herself.

     “Maybe,” Soloman took another puff on his smoke, “I’ll have some officers come up here and examine the crime scene for evidence of arson. Until then, here’s my card if you see something suspicious.” He slid a small parchment through his fingers towards the couple, “This is my extension. Do not hesitate.” He readjusted his pants on his protruding hips after Nita took his number in her slender fingers smothered in dirt. “Can we invite you in for a lemonade?” Her husband extended, exhausted.

     “Duty calls,” Soloman started for his car, “Please, folks, call me directly. Until then, y’all stay safe.” With that, the old officer was gone.

     “I don’t trust him,” the wife proclaimed.

     “And why is that?” Neshoba kissed his wife’s honey skin, pressing into her temple

     “I’m not sure,” she muttered, “He rubs me the wrong way.” Her husband chuckled.

     Neshoba was walking the jetties on the Emerald Coast in Florida when he first saw her. Pouring her eyes out on a boulder four times her size, younger Nita had dropped her car keys into the ocean.

     “Everyone rubs you the wrong way, my dear.”

     At first glance, the weeping woman thought Shoba was going to come back and axe her to pieces when he extended a helping hand. When her husband came back with an industrial flash light, brand new fishing net, and small chocolate bar , she questioned her dreary faith in the average man for the very first time. They had been together ever since, a lengthy twelve years.
“There’s nothing wrong with being cautious,” she looked up at him, somehow always instilling the strength she needed with a simple smile.

Author note: I feel like I’m losing momentum here. Could I possibly get some advice on how to keep my story propelled while introducing characters? Other advice/reviews would be much appreciated! Thank you!

This post first appeared on A Smile A Day, please read the originial post: here

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Red Oak


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