When I am able to settle down in Madison -- in our "deluxe apartment in the sky" -- to final editing and all that jazz, I am aiming for a length of about 70,000 words. I could develop some minor things more fully, but I think keeping things clean and simple will work better for this particular book. My vision for it is that the boy with wings flies in and flies out. It is supposed to be a bit of a surreal flash, and the narrator's rambling style provides plenty of other stuff. The basic story will be tied up but loose ends are part of the deal.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYCpjqXBPONbjHUqEh2OYK1W6CG7_3HQFzgy_gHWeDpheol4DjFSAhrOQWEKbcCm1VZNjOhbT88Qd877wP_0hPxytJWGL-genbMYv2E82C4cBf59NkdMVu90KQq0exM7mzVuNN-2JvBg/s200/bookFLYING.jpg)
SPOILER ALERT: The next section is the [unedited] end of the novel. Your choice.
“If you
could see us now, Miss Missouri,” I said, tearing up.
LuNella
must have heard me. She leaned toward me and whispered, “She probably can, you
know.”
I didn’t
really believe that, not the way LuNella meant it. But it was a nice idea. I
nodded at her, reached into my pocket and rubbed my ten-year coin.
Baptist
weddings don’t take long. It seemed just a minute later Hank, Jr. was lifting
Katie’s veil and kissing her. Only then did I notice that there were small
white feathers woven into the crown of roses in her hair.
People
applauded and I think I heard a cheer or two from the back where the groom’s
buddies sat, punching one another in the arm and congratulating themselves on
still being free.
The
organist struck up something traditional and the newlyweds waited for the
ushers to lead the families and friends outside, where other friends handed out
small net bags filled with white confetti and tied with white ribbons. Finally
Katie and Hank came through the doors and cheers erupted again as confetti
filled the air. Some of it landed on my sleeve, and as I shook it off, I
noticed that the small bits of paper were not cut into squares or circles or hearts.
Each one was a tiny white feather. I looked sharply at Katie, but she was
facing the other direction.
The
couple walked down the steps to a waiting limousine that would take them to the
reception at the club. As Hank held the door for his bride, I saw her look up
and pause.
I could
swear I heard the sound of wings, but when I looked up into the sun, I didn’t see
anything.
Katie
caught my eye and smiled crookedly, raising an eyebrow.
She held
out her hand to help Hank into the limo and they rode away.