Freewrite House Madness Day 5 -2197

The Madness

All was well in the Freewrite House until November 1st rolled around. At the stroke of midnight, several of us started foaming from the mouth, our fingers started to itch and we just couldn't help ourselves. Collectively, we started chanting:

50,000 - fifty thousand - FIFTY THOUSAND!!!!

Nobody could speak anymore. The chant grew louder and louder until even the man in the moon chimed in. That was the start. The itching fingers suddenly knew what to do.

Find a keyboard!!

17 of us set out on the great adventure which will be known for generations to come as the Freewrite House November Madness.

It had struck thousands before the poor souls knew what hit them. For years now, the wolves are howling NaNoWriMo and the crazed zombies are answering the call. Write - they say. Morning, evening, in the middle of the night. Bring on the coffee and let's count those words!

It is a sad sight and all of us who are suffering the curse of the itching writing fingers need your help. Cheer us on!! Make us believe that we can do it.

Tell us about the little blue engine that only knows one thing to say: "I think I can."

Help us!! Encourage us. Be our #NovMadFan s and win SBI!!!

For a chance to WIN SteemBasicIncome just read and comment on my and other's #freewritemadness posts For more information visit the @freewritehouse

Here are the names of the red-eyed wildly typing zombiesque Mad Freewriters!!
@aislingcronin
@carolkean
@kaelci
@improv
@bennettitalia
@stinawog
@byn
@mariannewest
@felt.buzz
@ntowl
@Botefarm
@KAERpediem
@linnyplant
@Kipswolfe
@amelin
@grow23

Remember, use #NovMadFan on all your comments of a #freewritemadness writer!

Day 5 - Excerpt

Everything was so conditional on her part. And demanded. But maybe she was so disappointed with her life and wanted something back for herself out of all the misery she must have walked through.
She probably didn’t want to wash and clean and cook all day for all these kids she didn’t want in the first place.
Her first child was often sick as an infant. A screaming baby at night in a cold room must have been awful. A screaming baby that was maybe hungry? Or suffering from allergies? Or maybe was on the spectrum a little bit. We don’t know.
But for a young woman who had been pampered all during her childhood and probably had never cared for a baby - after all, she was the youngest in the family, it must have been a nightmare.
She had a husband she had met in the war on leave from the front. A young officer in a shiny uniform. There was no way they could have known each other well and marriages during the war were often fast and often short.
The war was over and her husband did not come home. He was a prisoner of war and had the misfortune to be in a French prison camp.
Many of the German soldiers who had survived the war and surrendered did not survive being prisoner of war of the French - or the Russians for that matter.
He often told us that they were captured in Belgium and put on a train that was supposed to take them home - that is what they were told. Along the way, there were plenty of occasions when they could have gotten up and left. But only very few did.
After all - they were going to go home.
Only, they weren’t.
The train went through Germany and then to France where they found themselves prisoners of war to people who were full of hate against the Germans.
It is hard to blame people who had suffered so much throughout the German occupation to separate the individual prisoner of war from the German war effort.
The truth is that so many people fighting in a war do not want to be there. That was true for the Germans as it was true for many of the allied forces. It was true for many of the soldiers who had been sent to Vietnam.

---

“I am so tired and my body aches,” Margaret said.

“It is time to dig the potatoes now,” answered Eugene.

“But the baby is so heavy on me,” she answered.

“If you don’t go and dig the potatoes, it will be your fault if we are all starving this winter.”

What a nice man indeed.

---

11,707 words done.

Words Remaining 38,293

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