It's nice to write. Working on the next book. 11,000+ words. Looking good.
Oh, and here's WQ169! It's very nice :-)
WQ169 - (200 words, image above, a faux pas, a mail order bride, a back-handed compliment)
"Come here often?" he asked the girl who was dressed as a Chicken McNugget.
"Only on a Tuesday," she replied.
They sat overlooking the beach and watched the waves crashing against the long-forgotten and decrepit skyscrapers of yesteryear. The others were almost asleep, the party calming down after too much to drink and too little to eat.
"So, why the costume?" he asked.
"Why so many goddamn questions!" she retorted.
"Ooo, touchy." The noise of the waves gradually overcame any noises from the campfire behind.
"Sorry," she said. "Someone told me it was fancy dress tonight."
"Like you can have a fancy dress party after the Apocalypse. Nice costume, though."
He glanced over to her as the shine from the half moon hit her face. "You're so pretty..."
"Thank you," she said, smiling over to him.
"...for your size."
Her smile disappeared and she crossed her arms, creasing her McNugget and making it bulge in all the wrong places.
"So, what were you before... all this?" He motioned his hand across the destruction of the whole human civilisation.
"A mail-order bride," she said with a snark.
"Pages 45 through to 70?" he asked.
It's amazing how fast ground travels.