![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceAs you know, signs of Chaz overusing LJ are a guarantee that he's not getting much work done. Yesterday, I did no work at all, only fussed with the house and then went out to meet friends for dinner - oysters! and mussels! alive, and dead-oh! - and go on to a gig. Today I meant to work, but have done more fussing than revising. Also, I stopped to watch Dune this afternoon (the David Lynch, not the miniseries. Has anyone seen the miniseries? And should I...?) (Bearing in mind that I like the novel enough that I have - and am keeping - a first edition?).
However: here's another snippet from the revision-in-progress, Hidden Cities by Daniel Fox:
There needn't be trumpets. Nor fireworks, though there were in fact fireworks almost every night now. They were gaudy and welcome and superfluous.
Triumph could be a quiet thing, Chung had learned. It could be what came after the fireworks, in the absence of trumpets. Slipping into his bed, into his heart; a whisper in his ear, a hidden touch in the dark, contentment. Contentment could be triumph, indistinguishable.
However: here's another snippet from the revision-in-progress, Hidden Cities by Daniel Fox:
There needn't be trumpets. Nor fireworks, though there were in fact fireworks almost every night now. They were gaudy and welcome and superfluous.
Triumph could be a quiet thing, Chung had learned. It could be what came after the fireworks, in the absence of trumpets. Slipping into his bed, into his heart; a whisper in his ear, a hidden touch in the dark, contentment. Contentment could be triumph, indistinguishable.