Day 22 of NANOWRIMO! Post update and today's excerpt.

Today I did a split writing day. 1,200 words in the morning and the rest after some TV in the evening. I did nap in the afternoon though. Hopefully it'll help me dump this cold I'm trying to come down with. I also suspect the carbs I'm having difficulty avoiding are contributing to the headaches, heartburn, and lethargy. I'm determined to avoid them more than I have been. It's my fault for not being diligent.

My total writing today came to 3,321 words. I start the final week with my total at 37,017 out of 50,000. Almost there!

Here's today's excerpt (remember these are unedited):

Pumbaa Bankole hadn’t slept much the night before either. The imageless visitor returned to taunt him as he lay on his bunk. He knew it was there just seconds before it spoke. The room smelled of warmth and ozone. He also knew he didn’t imagine it because one of the other two men in the cell stirred.

“I met Abeni,” it told him from the dark shadows of the jail cell.

When he ignored the bodiless voice, it sang in his ear, “I showed her what a liar her father is and how her mother is a slut.”

Pumbaa closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

“They tried to take her faith away from her but I stopped them. You should be grateful; you should thank me,” it told him.

“I doubt that,” Pumbaa whispered.

“They wanted her to nail her brother to the wall.”

“I doubt that as well.”

“Shut up,” one of Pumbaa’s cell mates spit at him from where he lay up on his bunk. The man turned over to face the wall.

“Ask her about the little séance. Oh wait, you poor man who cannot even comfort his daughter in her darkest hour. I suppose you will have to leave that to me.”

“Leave me,” Pumbaa said in a low tone.

“Very well,” the voice said to him. “I guess I will have to go discuss the situation with your wife.”

Even though he couldn’t see the thing, Pumbaa knew the presence had left. The room suddenly felt emptier and cold. He told himself he preferred it that way as he pulled his blanket up tighter about his chest.

When dawn arrived, and the call to rise came from the prison public address system, Pumbaa cursed the demon. Even though it didn’t stay long, it planted the seeds of doubt and worry in his mind. That was enough to keep him awake and uncomfortable the remainder of the night. He climbed from his bunk, exhausted in body and mind.