Hey there.
Before starting, I would just like to say that I have a general interest check titled Edward's Initial Check. There, you can find more information on myself and my writing. If you decide on wanting to contact me, I ask that you please read that first. But allow me to clarify three things upfront: I am looking for a woman to write the female protagonist in our story. Don't contact me if you are under the age of 25. If you do contact me, please do it by PM, not here. Thank you.
There is also an interest check which contains a different single story idea, and it is titled Edward's Single Item. The Duo. So if this story is not entirely to your taste, I urge you to take a look at that one as well.
Additionally, I have another interest check titled "Edward's List", which is comprised of a few plot ideas. Sadly, I'm about as happy with that list as finding a greasy hair in my sandwich, so I'm not going to bother linking that here. It's not that the plots on that list aren't valid, only that I feel my execution of the list was about as appealing as my undignified attempts to stop a certain someone from walking out on me.
This specific story idea, a postapocalyptic romance, came to me while I was walking home with a load of heavy groceries the other day. For now, I've titled the story "She Wears Boots". It is a title that must have made me smile in a weird way. The reason I think it made me smile in a weird way, is because I do that lot. Also because, as I walked across the intersection near my home, my eyes happened to turn toward a woman in her car waiting at the light. She was very distinctly screwing her nose up at me, the same way people do when they witness a lone, smiling weirdo crossing an intersection while hauling far too many grocery bags.
She Wears Boots
Sam was a man tall and strong, with a proportionately large gun, and a decent heart buried deep beneath his hardened exterior. Sam also thought he was special, in a very cursed kind of way, to have been the only human to survive World War III. At least, that seemed to be what the evidence around the ruins of his home town indicated. Not a damn trace of any other living soul to be found. There was, however, a lot of room for error in his assessment. After all, his home town wasn't very big, which automatically minimised the chances of survivor numbers, and it also meant that scavenging provisions from the ruins wasn't exactly fruitful. For the sake of his own survival, he needed to leave, journey the wastelands in search of food, clean water, and the small possibility of discovering other survivors.
It was quite some time after much of earths elements melted in what would have been a very pretty spectacle from space, that Sam set out across the wastelands. Just him and his flannel shirt, jacket and jeans, a shoulder bag and his proportionately large gun travelled for several weeks sifting through the many ruins, scrounging up what previsions may have been left behind, before one day - and rather unexpectedly - he stumbled upon a trail of footprints. More accurately, tracks left behind by a single person wearing a pair of ladies fit boots.
If you wish to discuss this idea further, or any idea of yours or mine - or even just the prospect of any other idea at all, I look forward to chatting with you.
PM me.
Before starting, I would just like to say that I have a general interest check titled Edward's Initial Check. There, you can find more information on myself and my writing. If you decide on wanting to contact me, I ask that you please read that first. But allow me to clarify three things upfront: I am looking for a woman to write the female protagonist in our story. Don't contact me if you are under the age of 25. If you do contact me, please do it by PM, not here. Thank you.
There is also an interest check which contains a different single story idea, and it is titled Edward's Single Item. The Duo. So if this story is not entirely to your taste, I urge you to take a look at that one as well.
Additionally, I have another interest check titled "Edward's List", which is comprised of a few plot ideas. Sadly, I'm about as happy with that list as finding a greasy hair in my sandwich, so I'm not going to bother linking that here. It's not that the plots on that list aren't valid, only that I feel my execution of the list was about as appealing as my undignified attempts to stop a certain someone from walking out on me.
This specific story idea, a postapocalyptic romance, came to me while I was walking home with a load of heavy groceries the other day. For now, I've titled the story "She Wears Boots". It is a title that must have made me smile in a weird way. The reason I think it made me smile in a weird way, is because I do that lot. Also because, as I walked across the intersection near my home, my eyes happened to turn toward a woman in her car waiting at the light. She was very distinctly screwing her nose up at me, the same way people do when they witness a lone, smiling weirdo crossing an intersection while hauling far too many grocery bags.
She Wears Boots
Sam was a man tall and strong, with a proportionately large gun, and a decent heart buried deep beneath his hardened exterior. Sam also thought he was special, in a very cursed kind of way, to have been the only human to survive World War III. At least, that seemed to be what the evidence around the ruins of his home town indicated. Not a damn trace of any other living soul to be found. There was, however, a lot of room for error in his assessment. After all, his home town wasn't very big, which automatically minimised the chances of survivor numbers, and it also meant that scavenging provisions from the ruins wasn't exactly fruitful. For the sake of his own survival, he needed to leave, journey the wastelands in search of food, clean water, and the small possibility of discovering other survivors.
It was quite some time after much of earths elements melted in what would have been a very pretty spectacle from space, that Sam set out across the wastelands. Just him and his flannel shirt, jacket and jeans, a shoulder bag and his proportionately large gun travelled for several weeks sifting through the many ruins, scrounging up what previsions may have been left behind, before one day - and rather unexpectedly - he stumbled upon a trail of footprints. More accurately, tracks left behind by a single person wearing a pair of ladies fit boots.
If you wish to discuss this idea further, or any idea of yours or mine - or even just the prospect of any other idea at all, I look forward to chatting with you.
PM me.