Two Hours of Precious Writing Time

Chapter One

Margaret shivered as she stood on the empty station platform, her heart aching as painfully as her frozen fingers bitten by the cruel November wind. Staring up the railway tracks she shielded her eyes from the glare of the early setting sun as she searched for any sign of the train that would bring her beloved Jeremy back to her.

Hang on... what direction would those train tracks go? Would she really be looking West into the setting sun? I'd better take a moment to check Google Earth. Ooh, look, there are some really nice houses in that area, and it's so convenient for the good schools. I wonder what those homes cost and if any are on the market? Maybe a quick look at Rightmove...

[Half-an-hour later]

A solitary magpie screeched as it landed on the bench next to her. She wondered if it was a good or a bad omen. How did that rhyme go?

Off to Wikipedia to look up that rhyme. Oh look, there are lots like that. Gosh, I remember that "Monday's child is fair of face" one. What day was I born on? Where can I find out. Let's find a calendar somewhere. Wednesday. Right, well that "full of woe" stuff is obviously nonsense. Where was I? Oh yes.

"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, for four a boy." She'd settle for anything except one magpie, she thought, even though she and Jeremy weren't married. Yet.

I've got a notification on Facebook! Oh look, someone has commented on my photo. Ha, I must respond. And check my wall. Jessica's wedding photos are up! They're all lovely, although I don't like her dress much, it would have been much better without all that beading. I wonder how much a dress like that costs these days? Perhaps I'll just have a little browse... it's research, after all. Maybe I'll have Margaret marry Jeremy instead of killing him.

[Another half-an-hour later]

Margaret tried to pass a few minutes by thinking of all the fun things she and Jeremy would do together over the next week. Perhaps they'd go to the theatre, or they could have a picnic in the park.

Is there a theatre near where my book is set? Google ... theatres ... No. Drat. I'll have to have them travel further afield. Oh look, my local theatre are doing an Agatha Christie play! I'd love to see that.

[Fifteen minutes later, tickets booked]

She mentally checked her make-up and smoothed down her hair.

Another notification! Oh my goodness, that's outrageous, I can't let that pass ... and now I'm all discombulated by that person's ignorance and can't get in the mood for writing. I'll play a game or three of solitaire to calm down.

[Twenty minutes later]

At the bend in the tracks she could just make out the approaching train, and her heart leapt.

Leapt? Is that right, or is it Leaped? Oh, it could be either. Which shall I choose. Hmmm. I wonder what other words have several spellings?

[Ten minutes later]

Oh, writing time is up, how many words have I written? Only 180 in an hour! I'm so disappointed! Oh no, I've just realised that I've made a major error. Margaret is on a deserted station platform at sundown in November, so that would make it about 5 p.m., at the start of the rush hour! There's no way that station would be completely empty. But I need it to be empty for atmosphere, and for the next plot twist to work.

Oh well, I'll start again tomorrow. I have two whole hours so I could get lots done.