Page 1 of Red Flags Only

Prologue

Go ahead, skip this. Who cares anyway.

Storm

Officially, I like the way a prologue looks in the line up of chapters to the left of my screen when I’m writing. It’s like a soft launch on a book. Dipping my toe into the water. Amaybe I will, maybe I won’t.

Unofficially, I know you losers don’t read these, so I’m no longer writing them.

Except.

I want them for my line up. I want them for my wee toes.

So you get extra Storm time instead.

Lucky you!

Now, what to do with all this extra time… hmm… to bore you with Stardew Valley facts? To rank apples, from least favorite to favorite? (Cosmic Crisp, Gala) To write a poem depicting my love for Camilla Evergreen?

To leave you be so you can get on to the book, you few readers who are actually reading the prologue?

Yes, I suppose that last one.

One page over, then. Enjoy!

Chapter One

The old man probably deserved it.

Lyra

Dear Jupiter,

Oh. My. Goodness.

You’ve outdone yourself. I opened my mailbox, saw the shimmery, shiny pink, and nearly got run over by Old Man Norman in my excitement. Note to self: move out of the road before bouncing with glee. Ole’ Normy almost had a heart attack. I know, because he stopped the car in the middle of the road to get out and lecture me on proper safety precautions. Then we both had to jump into my yard to avoid Mrs. Jokic cosplaying Lightning McQueen. Norman didnotlike that. Left mid-yelling at me so that he could chase after her and “give her a piece of my mind!” Not gonna lie, I considered following him. Can you imagine anyone giving Mrs. Jokic a piece of their mind? I’d bet my entire life savings – all three dollars of it – that she ate him for lunch.

Speaking of lunch, you’d be so proud of me!!I ate not one, not two, but THREE Taco Bell burritos today. At an almost appropriate lunch time! I mean, okay, sure. It was 3:00 PM. And, yeah, I didn’t have any food in the house, so I had to bribe the probably-not-on-drugs teenager next door with a taco to get him to drive to pick it up for me because I couldn’t quite afford the delivery fees. But. I ate lunch! Just like you’re always telling me to do! I will take my praises now, please. You can serve them on a pretty pink platter decorated like your letter to me. Lots of shimmer, lace, and butterflies requested. Hearts mandatory.

Really, though. I can’t stop looking at my letter. I’m obsessed. I’m going to frame it. The shoebox on my desk is unworthy of this beauty. Not that it’s everreallybeen worthy of any of the beauties you’ve sent me.

Hm.

Maybe I should frame them all…

No, no. You’re right. I don’t have the wall space. What a silly thought.

I’ll just frame my very, very favorites!

How long did my newest favorite take you? All these sequins… My goodness, Jupie, it looks like you glued them on individually. This is insanity.

Oop. Ah. Ugh.

Chrissy is calling.

I guess I better answer…

“Hello,” I greet, shoving my phone between my faceand my shoulder so that I can work on the sticker pocket for Jupiter’s letter, even if I can’t keep writing. I’m going to get a crick in my neck, I know, but Chrissy hates being put on speaker phone, and I hate making Chrissy upset. It’s never worth it.

---