Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Franklin Pierce

There were times when Viv just didn't understand Franklin at all. His moods were confounding and even upsetting with no apparent reason. Take last tuesday for instance. He'd gotten up first that morning fixed one of his great breakfast omelets and just generally made her feel like a princess. Later he had even called her at work just to tell her he missed her, Viv was on cloud nine. In the evening, however everything had changed. She could see it in his eyes, the darkness, the silent burning anger it was like he was a different person. He could go on for days like that and hardly say a word, and if she pushed, the single mono syllables were dry, wicked and dripping with contempt.
Today was different, even worse. She hadn't heard from Franklin in two days and when he came home it looked like there was...blood on his clothes. When she asked he said easily "Something died, and I had to help." Now what in the world did that even mean, but he would say no more.

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