I thought about putting my chapters for my writing camp here but they seem to be longer than what most people will read here. So instead I’ll be taking a section or two from the chapter I’ve written and highlight it.
“Oh, poor Lulu!” She pinched the small boy’s cheeks before swiftly turning back to Giovannii. “The poor baby is starving. He needs more!”
He nodded. “There is more soup in the pot if Luci-Lucus, him, wants more.” He passed the woman and grabbed his own bowl. The soup wasn’t inviting, but it was all he could manage with the food they did have. After a long day at work, and another one early the next day, he couldn’t risk wasting it.
The woman sighed and the playfulness vanished. “What would your parents think about this? Are you trying to disgrace their legacy?!”
From the corner of his eye, he saw his son turn and snicker at the remark. He bit his lip to keep himself from joining.
The woman pushed herself into his face, waiting for an answer.
“I think as long as we have a roof over our heads and something, anything, in our stomachs that it would please them,” Giovannii answered while trying to not meet the woman’s gaze.
“Poppy-cot! A legacy built on wooden splinters and rusted nails aren’t worth the plot it’s buried on!” The woman strolled around the apartment, flailing her arms in a theatrical rhythm. “A Legacy need to be lined in golden threads with the most delicious offerings imaginable to man. The sea should bend to any descendant weather it is one from past or present, the air at the command of a man to be its slave and for a woman to never lift a finger.” She swung back to look at Giovannii in a way that made his stomach curl. She slowly walked towards him, making every movement as seductive as she could. “A man cannot be anything more than a boy if he doesn’t build a worthy legacy.” She placed a delicate hand on his chest, her nails playing with the wrinkles in his shirt.
Comments are welcomed.