Lucid is way tooooooooooo long.
I still have a few more chapters of Grammarly doctoring to go.
I think it's putting lipstick on a pig, but then, I hit a passage where Lucy's voice isn't dragged to a standstill by my inept fingers and I remember why I liked it. Why I wrote it when there were so many other ideas I could've hitched onto.
“Reminds me of fishing. I used to go fishing when I was a boy a million years ago. Friend of my father’s…His wife would come. Oh, she brought sandwiches. The best sandwiches, I swear. Egg salads, I want to say.”
He pointed at my head and said, “That’s the kind of hat she wore if I remember right. The exact same.”
He held my eyes. I thought of Superman’s pal, Jimmy Olsen. Jimmy weathered like an apple left unpicked or fallen off the branch, wrinkling and browning beneath the sun. A face you might see in a bad dream. But I still looked him in the eye. It was polite.