Today’s wordage: 4,700
Today’s writing time: 2 hours, 15 minutes
Total wordage: 54,800
Total writing time: 33 hours, 30 minutes
Ropy vines larger than her thigh connected the trees in all directions above them. Those vine were wrapped in yet more growth: teeming orchids with their bright, bobbing flowers, sprays of bromeliad, mats of chartreuse moss, little curling opportunistic plants filling the spaces between all.
In the airy green cathedral a profusion of butterflies moved. It was as if the flowers themselves had detached from their seats and gone hunting for mates. Flashes of color, some larger than her hand, flitted in aimless circles driven by the dim priorities of insect intelligence.
Paolina lowered her gaze to look at Ming. He was brushing dust from his road-worn blues and frowning. Behind him a spiderweb strung between two of the great trunks held a slender beauty with an hourglass body and trembling legs which could have spanned her face. She took half a step back from that sight, and turned again.