/lit/ - Literature

Autumn's furious chill attacked the shutters of Wilbur's apartment. The shutters rattled frantically against their latch, struggling to escape, much like the former occupants of this place. Twenty years ago, the Famine wiped out the population of downtown Detroit. Most didn't die -- they simply left, never to return. It was a cruelly fitting swan song for a city built from migration. The remnants were the scavengers, the grifters. Fire damage took down many of the structures that remained.

Then, He appeared.

Wilbur was one of the latecomers, so he could only find lodging at the edge of town. It was a rickety, forgotten bungalow which had avoided destruction by being in the middle of nowhere. The deed was lost, the Housing Committee told him. If he invested in upkeep, the property would be his to own.

But what a steep task. No gas, no electric. Most of the windows lacked panes and sported plywood coverings. The panes that survived lay hidden under wooden shutters that threatened to fly off at the slightest gust. So, they stayed latched.

Not all was hopeless. Tellus gave their employees a stipend for living costs, limited to $5000 a month. An employee living in the Renaissance complex could splash out on dinners or entertainment; this Wilbur spent on solar panels and house repairs.

With a few sunny days, Wilbur gained five minutes of scalding hot water. He didn't bother using this to shower; his showers were always cold and quick. Like him. He used the boiling water to heat up expired stews and other throwaways that would tide him over the rest of the week.

To prevent losing too much weight, he attended Ops department conferences each Monday after his shift. He was sure he came off diligent to his superiors, and some of the subject matter truly did interest him. But as he walked in, he made sure to grab a donut or five before sitting down. The extras he furtively wrapped in napkins and slid down his coat's inner pocket. He cringed as he felt glaze smear the pocket lining, knowing he'd have to wash it later. He also knew he had no choice.

if i have a first draft of a chapter that is 5000 words where should i post it? it'll be up some time this week