Plugging away at this despite the fact I’m starting to scare myself. Why couldn’t I have come up with workable premise for a novel about cupcakes?
This is a very short passage that marks a transition from intangible to concrete.
Rowena Hall checked the schedule on the housekeeping bulletin board and was pleased to see that she’d scored three shifts. Three shifts was pretty good so early in the season, by the time she was on her summer break from MUN she’d have five. One more year to finish her degree and while she didn’t mind the hotel, it’d be nice to start a career and a real job.
Maneuvering the heavy housekeeping cart, she made her way to the fifth floor, thinking about her day. Only eight rooms, so she’d be out by lunchtime and could start studying for her psych exam. She hummed to herself as she pulled her cart out of the service area and into the hallway towards the first room.
“Housekeeping!” she called, knocking. No answer. She let herself in and was greeted with a whoosh of cold air. Rowena shivered. Some people, she thought, barely spring and they’ve got the A/C cranked.
She took a cursory look around: pretty clean; tag on the door had indicated he didn’t want the sheets changed today, so it was grab the garbage, and check the toiletries. She stuck her head into the bathroom to see what she needed off the cart and jumped, startled. A man was sitting low in the tub, eyes closed. “I’m sorry Sir I didn’t realize-“ she noticed a bluish tinge around his mouth.
Rowena moved closer “Sir, sir, are you okay?”
Then she saw why he was so still. A wave of dizziness knocked her back and she struggled to catch her breath.
The water in the tub had frozen, leaving him encased in ice. Rowena forced herself to touch his hand, the skin cold and waxy, like the pig’s feet her mother cooked on Sundays.