“Again!” shouted Carmel. From out of the distant yellow ether emerged a nine-letterer, spearing toward Francesca. Brimming with newly-learned patience, she ignored her thundering heart and stilled herself, watching it speed her way and waiting till the last possible moment to jump. Her momentum, so strange and unearthly here in wordspace, carried her through a full frontflip. Her relief was palpable as she perfectly righted herself and landed deftly on the first of the nine letters – a B.
No time to celebrate; the instant her feet touched the letter, Francesca was sprinting. O. The nine-letterer treadmilled beneath her as it sped on its inexorable journey pageward. M. Though her legs worked furiously to carry her over the other letters, Carmel remained fixed in her view. B. Her feet percussively slapped each letter in turn, and a numbness crawled up her calves. A. Focus now. Z. I. N. E. Hitting that last letter, she dismounted with another graceful leap, flipping backward and shouting “bombazine!” as she flew. She landed confidently on a small mound of syllable, knowing at once that this time had been perfect.
Carmel looked on silently. A thin smile, like a crack in a ceramic, touched her features. Francesca nodded deferentially, though in her head she screamed with such joy that she was positive Carmel would hear. “Good”, Carmel conceded. “Quite good. I think we shall make a writer of you yet. Again!”
Matthew Weldon's Dangerous Thoughts 