Under the microscope
James McCreet explores the opening passage of a reader’s thriller manuscript
James McCreet
All That Crawls
It was hot in Sanderson’s office and I couldn’t breathe.1 A brass carriage clock ticked too loud.2 Lots of leather and mahogany furniture smelt like Old England.3 The bookcase was stuffed with thick brown books, none of them looked like casual reading.4 The only modern thing was the computer and even that seemed like an antique.5 I’d never been here before.6 Being here now couldn’t be any kind of good.7
Not that I cared.8 I didn’t care about anything anymore.9 There was a hole in me so deep that I couldn’t remember what had filled it before.10 In fact that was wrong – it’d been friendship and pride. And trust.11
Sanderson was making phone calls and scribbling on bits of paper and I couldn’t remember a single word he’d said or who he’d been talking to.12 My mind was empty and full at the same time13 – empty of background thought and full of blood and bad decisions.14
I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there.15 I thought five minutes but it was probably less.16 I felt like I was swaying and maybe I was.17 I hadn’t been sleeping or eating much.18 It all came back when I closed my eyes – vivid and brutal, quick but lasting.19
The door opened and I stood a little straighter.20 It was only the colonel’s secretary. She was good-looking, a nice perk if you can get it.
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October 2017
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