Sunday, March 19, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Transference

March 19, 2017

And we had about two inches of snow this week. Mother Nature is laughing her ass off right now.

The Walking Dead had another great episode. I always love Carol and I enjoyed Morgan's journey. The Talking Dead follow up made me happy, too.

The Flash took a turn I didn't expect and I like it. Looking forward to seeing what else the speed force comes up with to throw at Barry.

Legends of Tomorrow going to the moon proved a fun ride. Personally, I want a lot more Mick and Martin scenes. Their timing is so terrific. I'm also loving the Sarah / Rip dynamic. Love this show.

Arrow upped the tension by a zillion. His past keeps coming back to haunt him in huge ways. While I love how Adrian has everything twisted in his direction, I'll enjoy seeing him go down. At least I hope he goes down. Hard. And doesn't get back up. I'm also waiting for Felicity to land on the hot seat. Something tells me she's going to get into a mess she can't get out of.

Riverdale had a bye week, which makes me sad. No new episode this week either. Grr.

I finished up the first season of City Homicide and started Luke Cage. So far, I'm enjoying the Harlem vibe and look forward to seeing how Luke comes into his hero status.

Still need to catch up on Murdoch Mysteries and X Company. Possibly this week.

And that's it for television. This week's post is from Transference, a novella that started with a scene prompt... One character is loading up their belongings for a move or transfer and they find a letter that reminds of their last time with another character.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Leslie Karr is packing her meager belongings to move into a new apartment and finds a letter from Granger Unger explaining why their night of shared grief over the loss of his brother can't go anywhere. After three years, Leslie still wonders if he may have been wrong and decides to test the waters by looking him up before she leaves town.

And a snippety peek…

Granger tossed a ball against the wall of his office. He'd sent all the lab techs home—no one had great ideas after working twenty-four hours straight. He couldn't leave—not yet.
His team hovered on a breakthrough, so close Granger could almost see the solution in his mind. But not quite.
"Argh!" The ball hit, bounced, and returned only to roll between his trash can and file cabinets.
Rising, he dragged on a jacket and exited the office. The darkened lab cast shadows on the floor and walls. When did it get dark? The clock read just after nine. Geez, I need a life. He'd been cloistered in his office for well over three hours. But he had nothing to get home to or anyone waiting on him.
His stomach rumbled. "Okay, food I can do." He locked the lab and jogged down the steps to the first floor.
The security guard glanced up from his monitoring station. "Heading home, Granger?" He settled back in the chair and folded his hands over his belly.
Granger cracked a smile. "Not yet, Wallace. Heading out to grab a bite then coming back to work." He paused by the counter housing the camera feeds. "Can I get you something?"
Wallace shook his head. "No, thanks. The wife cooked up a storm today, trying a bunch of new recipes for her blog." He patted his stomach. "I'm her official taste tester and, man, I'm about to burst from eating so much." A satisfied grin crossed his features.
Granger lifted a hand in farewell. "Sounds terrific, Wallace. I'll be back in about thirty minutes." He waited for the guard to buzz him through the door then exited into the brisk night.
Suppressing a shiver, he strolled away from the research facility and crossed the road, heading toward an Irish pub that served excellent food in short order. The stars twinkled in the clear sky and Granger took a moment to gaze upward. He liked this time of year, but the usually mild weather of late spring hadn't arrived yet. The bite of winter lingering well after its normal run. Ohio weather never failed to amuse and amaze him.
He pulled the door open and entered the pub, the blast of warmth welcoming and full of comfort. The owner, Donal, lifted his chin in greeting then jerked his head toward the kitchen. Being a regular provided top-notch service without saying a word.
Granger gave a thumbs-up then grabbed a seat by the window. He didn't wait long, getting his order within fifteen minutes. Donal waved Granger off and suggested he come in to pay his tab this weekend.
Donal always seemed to know when Granger needed a break. He'd definitely stop in on Friday or Saturday and unwind. But first, his team needed to find their breakthrough.
Wallace nodded, the phone to his ear, when Granger walked past. He hit the stairs again, going up a floor then wandered down to the lab and back into his office. Settling behind the desk, he popped the lid on his takeout container then noticed his message light flashing.
Hitting the speaker, he keyed in his password. Maybe inspiration struck one of the techs. Nothing prepared Granger for the blast from his past.
"Hi, Granger. It's Leslie. Stupid of me to call, but, well, I finally graduated and have several interviews scheduled—God, that's not why I'm calling. I'd like to see you, if you're not too busy. I'll be in town Friday, staying through next week. If you're available, give me a call."
She signed off with her contact number.
Granger blinked and sat, hard, in the chair. Jesus. Leslie. How many times had he thought about her over the past two years? Every time he'd thought of Thad, which, granted, hadn't been as much recently. He missed his brother, especially around the holidays when Granger didn't have any family to visit.
But he'd held firm to his promise to leave Leslie alone. "And what did it get me?" A string of one-night stands and weekend relationships.
But he couldn't lay the blame at Leslie's feet. He wrote the letter. But she didn't reply or respond. You didn't leave her much of an opening. He hadn't. Not even a smidgen. How had she coped? He still got a kick of guilt over leaving that letter in her mailbox. She didn't have anyone either. Who had she turned to when she needed someone to talk to? God, he'd been such a shit. Pulling away not even a month after his brother's death. Hey, dumbass, she wants to talk to you now. Call her.
Grabbing his phone, he dialed her number.

Granger is going to kick himself for not calling Leslie sooner. But it gives him the opportunity to examine where he is and where he wants to go.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!


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