ctg
weaver of the unseen
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2007
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I have long stretched of silent narrative from Jane's PoV ending with dialogue with Herbert (in the next chapter break), and I'm wondering if the readers would see this as a "wall of text"?
Note, that Jane is narrating from a perspective were she's fighting against the zombifaction virus.
It was my duty. Nobody else. I had to get out from this mess, and I couldn’t count that the Authorities were going to offer me any sort of vaccination, but quite opposite as they certainly would try to put me down. So as soon as I realised that, I did head towards the door, but I didn’t get too far before I understood that my current state of mind wasn’t going to last forever. At least, not for a long enough to give a fighting change to the old virus of mine.
So I rushed back in and grabbed as many bags as I could before I turned around and went out the same way I had come back in. At the corridor, I watched how some dead were moving towards the fighting, while few others were finishing their first meal. And I knew I couldn’t be following their doings. I couldn’t go out through the front or even the backdoor, but to use the old escape plan I had scouted long time ago.
What it was, I couldn’t remember exactly. And the only thing I could remember was that it was somewhere in a hot, noisy and dusty place. But I was in the middle of the hospital, where such a places were as uncommon as the dead that were now walking in its corridors.
Think, I said to myself.
It didn’t work. Not straight away anyway. However, what worked was my instinct that said to hide in the darkest, farthest corner possible. I head down the corridor, away from the noises, from the dead, but further I went, more evidence I saw from the walkers. It was almost as if they mindlessly, almost chaotically were searching the hospital for anything that was living. They didn’t spear closets, half lit corridors, unused storage rooms, anything. But in a way, by following their tracks, I ended up in that noisy, dusty and very hot place that served as the hospital boiler room.
It was a large and chaotic place: kilometres after kilometres of pipes, cables and pressure valve mixed up with huge pressure tanks and peeping, blinking equipments. Anything that you didn’t need, when you were in my condition. It was almost as if they were there taunting me, as I tried to find my way through the maze with only a quarter of brain left.
Can you believe that?
I looked at her hanging her head low, a smoke rising high from the hand that was supported by the elbow leaning against the table and said, “I can imagine the place, but I don’t understand is that why did you find it so confusing?”
[FONT="]
Jane sifted backwards and with a smoke hanging from her lip, she started by saying, “Because to zombies that place is interesting. It’s full of noises, lights, moving shadows anything to keep them occupied. And believe me, sometimes they get stuck…”[/FONT]
Note, that Jane is narrating from a perspective were she's fighting against the zombifaction virus.
It was my duty. Nobody else. I had to get out from this mess, and I couldn’t count that the Authorities were going to offer me any sort of vaccination, but quite opposite as they certainly would try to put me down. So as soon as I realised that, I did head towards the door, but I didn’t get too far before I understood that my current state of mind wasn’t going to last forever. At least, not for a long enough to give a fighting change to the old virus of mine.
So I rushed back in and grabbed as many bags as I could before I turned around and went out the same way I had come back in. At the corridor, I watched how some dead were moving towards the fighting, while few others were finishing their first meal. And I knew I couldn’t be following their doings. I couldn’t go out through the front or even the backdoor, but to use the old escape plan I had scouted long time ago.
What it was, I couldn’t remember exactly. And the only thing I could remember was that it was somewhere in a hot, noisy and dusty place. But I was in the middle of the hospital, where such a places were as uncommon as the dead that were now walking in its corridors.
Think, I said to myself.
It didn’t work. Not straight away anyway. However, what worked was my instinct that said to hide in the darkest, farthest corner possible. I head down the corridor, away from the noises, from the dead, but further I went, more evidence I saw from the walkers. It was almost as if they mindlessly, almost chaotically were searching the hospital for anything that was living. They didn’t spear closets, half lit corridors, unused storage rooms, anything. But in a way, by following their tracks, I ended up in that noisy, dusty and very hot place that served as the hospital boiler room.
It was a large and chaotic place: kilometres after kilometres of pipes, cables and pressure valve mixed up with huge pressure tanks and peeping, blinking equipments. Anything that you didn’t need, when you were in my condition. It was almost as if they were there taunting me, as I tried to find my way through the maze with only a quarter of brain left.
Can you believe that?
***
I looked at her hanging her head low, a smoke rising high from the hand that was supported by the elbow leaning against the table and said, “I can imagine the place, but I don’t understand is that why did you find it so confusing?”
[FONT="]
Jane sifted backwards and with a smoke hanging from her lip, she started by saying, “Because to zombies that place is interesting. It’s full of noises, lights, moving shadows anything to keep them occupied. And believe me, sometimes they get stuck…”[/FONT]
