Work on my novel continues…slowly. I’m my own worst critic, I know, but it’s very hard to turn that inner critic off.
Still, I didn’t think this bit was all that bad:
It was then that he noticed the silence. Riverdell was a small, quiet town, but it had nothing on this place. Even on the quietest night in Riverdell, there was always traffic thrumming in the distance. Electricity sang through the power lines; streetlights hummed on otherwise dark streets; kids toting stereos pumped up the bass loud enough to rattle a whole building.
There was none of that here. There was only the wind in the trees here, tall grass waving in the breeze, a cricket choir backed by a bug band singing him to sleep.
It was another beautiful day here today, and the warmth of the sun has been most welcome. I hope you’re all having a fantastic weekend!
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