I recently got some feedback on the first part of an old story I had posted on a writing website a few years ago. So, I went back and looked at the comments from the reader. I decided it needed a new coat of polish. I began editing the piece. Having let it sit for a handful of years, I was able to look at it with fresh eyes and new ideas. I set to work editing the story and reworking some of the rough patches. No doubt I’ll futz around with it more before I consider it “complete.”

After tackling Part One, I opened the file for Part Two and took a hack at that one, too. I’m still not happy with it, so I’ll revisit the story again (and again) until I’m closer to satisfied. I do a lot of telling and not a lot of showing in that section, so I’ll keep chipping away at it.

Without further ado, here is Aeryn’s tale.

Lying on her back in the stinking darkness, Aeryn Mateyus woke cold and confused, her body one big ache. Shivering on a hard surface that pitched and rolled, she tried to sit up, but her hands, shackled to a support beam over her head, prevented her from doing so. Creaking noises and the sounds of sobbing, retching, muttered curses, and distant singing accompanied an unknown whoosh. Her head throbbed, and turning it to the side to vomit, sharp pain at the back of her skull brought a gasp, and she almost choked on her bile. Her stomach finally finished heaving, and she rolled back, passing out once more.

Read more at Shipwrecked.