Monday Morning Blues

Unless you are one of the few people who love the time changes that we get to experience twice a year, please take a moment to join me in a huge groan. 

I particularly dislike the spring-forward time change, as if we are to jump with joy because it feels like 6 a.m. when we wake up but our clock says 7 a.m. We’re supposed to be happy that we’re going to be horribly behind on everything until our internal clock catches up with the other clocks?

I don’t think so. And a pox upon whoever had the bright idea to start this nonsense in the first place.

Okay. Rant over. I feel much better now. A good rant, along with a nice cup of coffee does the trick every time. Please do join me, in the coffee, and the rant, if you’d like. And we can have a sweet biscuit, as well. 

Today I am going to share an excerpt from my WIP, Evelyn Evolving, that is based on my mother’s life. I put the book aside for a while, as I had some editing jobs to work on, but I am back to it. Several months ago I received some excellent advice on improving the story from Kathryn Craft, a terrific writer, as well as writing coach, and I am pleased with her suggestions for changes. 

This excerpt is from the beginning of chapter three. Enjoy….

Sister Honora made Evelyn tremble. She always made Evelyn tremble. Sometimes, when looking into the stern face pinched tight by the wimple, Evelyn was afraid her bladder would let go and she would be punished twice. Once for not scrubbing the floor fast enough and again for soiling herself. That’s what the sisters said about pee and poop. “Soiling oneself.” As if she had rolled in the dirt outside. If she was not locked in such terror of the nun before her, Evelyn would find that thought amusing.

Evelyn and Viola had been here at St. Aemilian’s Orphan Asylum for just over two years now, and Evelyn still didn’t understand why. Couldn’t Miz Regina or Miz Beatrice not come and take them away from this horrible place? Everything was all so confusing, and Evelyn kept hoping that someday someone would love them enough to come back and get them.

Sometimes in her dreams, she lived with both women. Miz Beatrice not sick anymore and Miz Regina happy to have her girls back. Viola said it was silly to wish. Pointless to dream. Nothing was going to change.

“Child. Are you listening?”

The harsh words tugged at Evelyn. She nodded, unable to push words past the lump in her throat.

“Why have you not finished this floor?” The nun gestured down the hall with her walking stick. “You are as slow as molasses in winter. What good are you?”

“I don’t know, Sister.” A soft whisper.

That was met with a sharp crack along Evelyn’s backside. “Don’t talk out of turn.”

“But, I—”

Another smack. “I said no talking.”

“But, you—”

This time when the walking stick landed, Evelyn’s bladder did let go.

“Now look what you have done. You dirty, nasty little child. Take those panties off. Right now.”

Evelyn did as she was told, holding the wet garment gingerly between thumb and forefinger. Sister Honora took the panties on the end of her walking stick, then draped them over the child’s head. “You will wear these to supper.”

“No! Please, Sister. No!”

“Enough. Go!”

Standing in the middle of the dining hall, the rotten stench of old urine swirling around her while the other children pointed and laughed, was the most humiliating experience of Evelyn’s young life. She swallowed hard and held back the bile that rose in her throat. She couldn’t vomit. She wouldn’t vomit. If she didn’t want more humiliation she didn’t dare vomit.

Thanks for reading, and please do leave me a comment and let me know what you think about the excerpt, and/or the time change rant. 

2 thoughts on “Monday Morning Blues”

    1. Thanks for stopping by, Myra. You don’t have to wait until your book if finished to post excerpts, so you might want to start now. Some marketing folks have indicated that it is good to stimulate interest before the book is published. Happy writing!

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