JACK OF DIAMONDS, REDUX

chapter three: To be edited

It’s not that I’m late, or that I forgot, it’s just that we’re getting the kitchen redone and I’ve been preoccupied with other things. Life has a habit of getting in the way sometimes. Be that as it may, I’m here with a new chapter to be edited. I’m putting up my chapter with all the edits I’m thinking of making. I’m slowly getting the hang of it all. Like I said, I’ll put up my version of what I think should be added, or discarded, and if you read it, and agree, leave a comment. If you don’t agree, tell me in the comments. But tell me what you don’t like about it, and why. So, here goes…

CHAPTER 3

The lane (was) (had been reduced to) a single rutted track of mud after three days of rain. Most of (it) (the so-called road) was still under water, making it difficult to negotiate. The truck seemed to (know) (make its (the) (own) path, (even to the point of traveling at its own pace). It bounced through bone-jarring holes and slid down the other side of (the) uneven ruts, (even) as Reggie fought with the steering wheel(, often turning it in the opposite direction to no effect.)

Artie looked up at the sun (wasup) as it (came slanting in through the dirty windscreen.) (but) It was still early enough to remind (Artie) him of just how much he’d rather be laying in the arms of a beautiful woman(—a woman) who wanted nothing more than to enjoy the day with him. (He looked out at t)he low rolling hills (steamed) (now steaming) in the distance as (the) sun (broke) (slipped) out from behind a(nother low) bank of clouds. A light mist seemed to catch itself in the trees and hedgerows(—desperate in its (effort) attempt to escape—)making the distant farms (look like) (appear as if they were) a (distant) smudge in a Turner painting.

Artie looked at Claire sitting beside him. He was holding on to the door frame to stop himself from being thrown about; it did little to help her though. She found herself (being) tossed about as if she were a toy in a child’s bath. She was pretty enough for him to want to see her naked though, and (he) looked away, back out over long fields of green. There were hedgerows everywhere he looked.

Still, that’s what made it interesting when you considered foxing.

He remembered when he was (younger)(still a boy)—before the war, before he left for Cambridge, (after) (before) his uncle, and before his life fell apart. He’d (They’d) go out riding with the coming dawn. There was usually six of them, with only (four)(three) dogs between them—one old, one almost blind, and another he thought must be rabid. There’d been some mornings when there’d been (almost) a dozen riders, and three more dogs. Someone would blow a horn and cry out, “Let slip the dogs of war!” But the dogs would usually wander about the yard until his brother Geoffrey would be forced to round them up and they(’d finally) set off into the countryside.

Artie wondered if the sons and daughters of the surrounding Manor houses would meet (and) (to) ride together the way he and his brothers had when he was younger. Or was that simply because it was another time, he wondered? With three brothers and a sister, the size of the riding parties over the years (always) varied. But there was always at least one girl. There’d (There would) always be (a variety of) (someone’s) sisters (and their) (or their out of town) cousins visiting, and it seemed their only interests were the brothers, and sisters of their country cousins. Sometimes, the horses weren’t the only thing being ridden.