Snippet, 2/9/12

I wrote about 750 words last night. Not a blockbuster, but I was trying to forcibly steer things where I needed them to go, and that's never smooth sailing.

David's eyes were fastened on the cup of congealing ramen. "Is that-- I mean." He paused, drew a breath, and let it out in a huff. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go drown my humiliation in some tequila while I work on my resignation letter."

Carter barely stopped himself from snorting. Had he been this melodramatic when he was twenty-three? Probably even moreso, actually. "Why would you do that?"