Excerpts from my upcoming Movella, Oliver James

I have started to piece together a book about a boy called Oliver James. Things keep changing about the plot so I can't tell you much about it yet but I hope to have something more solid up soon.

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2. A bad dream.

 

Every word seemed more precious, more inestimable than the last. I was drinking it in, I had no encumbrances. It was everything I had ever imagined. Every chain, and every wall that had stopped me from knowing it all, crumbled away into thin air. I knew everything and it felt great.     I tripped over my knotted duvet to get to my unopened window. I couldn’t breathe. My hand was clammy against the cold wood as I struggled to push the window pane barrier. My lungs hit the ice cold air with all the force it could, initially wincing in shock but eventually relaxing and regulating my breathing. When it felt safe enough I pulled my face and chest back through the window and into my room. My hand reached out for the pencil I had left on my desk the night before and I added to my tally. It was just under my window and it marked up to sixteen now. One for every year of my life. Happy Birthday to me.
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