Entered the Writer Digest contest with the first part of my story.
http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/13th-free-dear-lucky-agent-contest-young-adult-and-sci-fi
I was pretty sure
I wasn’t the last person on earth, it just felt that way. Sitting on the ledge
of the cathedral’s bell tower, like a modern day Quasimodo six stories above
the street. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and draped my arm across the ugliest
of the gargoyles. Scanning the city I looked for movement, inspecting
everything, each street, building, and back alley for signs of life. Smoke,
moving cars, recent construction, anything. But the city looked deader than the
bodies in the church below.
Everything my
father had said on his death bed about avoiding people, keeping hidden, all of
it, I totally blew it off and walked out of the mountains on my eighteenth
birthday.
Disregarding his
guidance had been tough. Hell, the man practically walked on water in my
opinion. But I couldn’t stay up there all alone, living like a hermit. Not
anymore. Something inside was pushing me, an unknown force, driving me to
stretch the limits, to break some rules. Ignore what was smart and do what felt
good instead. To hell with the consequences. But then the end of the world will
do that to a guy.
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