CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AN: There are some song lyrics I want to share with you from It's Hard to be the Bard from the musical Something Rotten. The song is sung by William Shakespeare, and is purely comical, not historically accurate. It describes writing quite well:

What people just don't understand

Is that writing's demanding

It's mentally challenging and it's a bore

It's such a chore

To sit in a room by yourself

Oh my god, I just hate it!

And you're trying to find an opening line

Or a brilliant idea and you're pacing the floor

And hoping for just a bit of divine intervention

That one little nugget, that one little spark

Then Eureka! You find it, you're ready to start

So now you can write, right? Wrong!

You're not even close, you remember that damn it

Your play's gotta be in iambic pentameter!

So you write down a word but it's not the right word

So you try a new word but you hate the new word

And you need a good word but you can't find the word

Oh where is it, what is it, what is it, where is it?

Blah-blah-blah, ha ha, ah-ha -UGHHHHHHHH!

AN: I don't hate writing at all, but that last verse is sooooo relatable. You should listen to the actual song. It's very funny.

Here's your chapter:

Sophie tried to keep track as they turned corners. Left. Right. Right. Left. Middle fork. Right. Left, but she lost track as they passed through a giant cavern and through a small side door.

Through the side door into a tunnel. Through the tunnel to a small storage room. Through the storage room to a small closet that Dimitar barely fit in.

Here he set Sophie down. He walked out of the small closet and closed the door behind him. Sophie heard a barely audible snick as the lock slid home. Sophie sat down, rubbing her legs and staring around her prison.

It obviously was meant to hold her, because the walls had a coat of crystal on them, so if she tried to use her outward channeling the crystals would blow up in her face and shred her to pieces. The door didn't have a knob on the inside and was locked from the outside.

No windows.

No visible air vents to crawl through with dramatic music playing in the background.

No escape.

AN: Another pathetic chapter from your least favorite author. Listening to What is This Feeling from Wicked on repeat right now. It's amazing. See you next Saturday!

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