8.31.2005

Snarklings Brave the Snarkometer, #41


Lauren Petersen hurriedly ran a brush through her short, static-charged hair. To her annoyance, rebel strands drifted up each time the brush made a pass. A glance at her watch caused her to grimace. She was running late and if she didn't get a move on it, she'd miss him. Again.


"a glance at her watch caused her to grimace". You say the same thing, better, in the next sentence. SHOW not tell.


Lauren hooked a finger on the strap of her salmon-pink purse as she passed the end table, then hopped from foot to foot as she slipped on her heels. Her keys were yanked from the cabinet hook like the baton in the Olympics and she raced to the front door - but once there, she halted and took a deep breath before calmly opening it.


"her keys were yanked" ...she yanked. Passive voice is certain death in romance novels.


The hallway outside her apartment was empty.

Slowly Lauren pulled the door shut and locked it as she threw a considering look at another door down the hall.

Had she taken too long?

The man had left at this exact time for the last two days. It had to mean he was finally on a schedule. He was going to open his door any second now and she'd be ready when he did. She took a deep breath and started walking, her stride oozing feminine confidence.

Two doors away.

She stopped to make sure her hose wasn't bunched at the ankle. It wasn't. She resumed walking - just as confident - but a little slower this time.


hose? she's wearing a garden hose? oh..you mean stockings, or pantyhose. I haven't heard anyone say "hose" since Grandfather Snarque discussed his sock drawer with me.


One door away.

No sign of life so far. Lauren stopped to look back at her own door - like maybe she had forgotten to lock it. Or had forgotten something else. Mentally she counted off the seconds, gave the appearance of deciding it was alright, then resumed walking.

One door back.

There was still hallway left. There was still a chance that she could run into him.

Two doors back.


She's a stalker? A murderer? One can only hope she's not actually trying to meet a MAN in such a way. Has anyone really done this since Doris Day? Perhaps Miss Snark is just feeling persnicketey. This just doesn't feel fresh and exciting. I want to slap Lauren around and tell her to read the Wall Street Journal.

2 comments:

Molly said...

I haven't heard anyone say "hose" since Grandfather Snarque discussed his sock drawer with me.

I think I hurt something laughing.

Anonymous said...

Molly: Keep laughing until you're sure.

Miss Snark: Thanks for taking a look at this. I appriciate your time and the heads-up. When I submitted this, you were still on submission #5. By the time this posted, I knew what was going to happen from reading other posts.

It's been facinating.