work in progress

This entry shall be a departure from the day of hell that today was. A departure from reality to fantasy. Not my fantasy so much as a world of my creation and characters under my control... to a fair extent. Remember that glorious epic I started to write, like, months ago? This is all I have written in all that time:

Zero lit a cigarette. The fumes from the lighter stung his nostrils a little. The sharp clank of his lighter shutting echoed around him in the darkness. He squinted through the smoke at the body in front of him. It was already starting to stink. The stink wasn’t what was bothering him.

He didn’t want to have to kill Gretchen but she had become one of them and he had no choice. He wanted to turn, to walk away and not look back but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. She was slowly disintegrating in front of him, her red dress sinking to the ground. He finished his cigarette and flicked it onto what was left of her body. Her dress caught fire. He turned away. He walked out of the house and lit another cigarette with his smelly lighter. He stood on the porch and looked up at the stars.

“I’m sorry, Gretchen.” His breath was caught in his throat a moment. He shook it off and walked down the three steps to the walkway in front of the dilapidated shack. He took the path to where he had left his car.

“I’m sorry.” He opened the car door and dropped himself in the seat. He closed the door and sat quiet for a moment before sliding his key in the ignition and starting the engine.

The silver boat slid up and over and down the intermittent hills of the Unholy Desert like a slow glistening bullet. “That piece of junk,” as Gretchen had once referred to it, was one of the last automobiles in the whole world of Oru and Zero’s pride and joy. He liked to think there were still occasional desert folk who could see and admire his car from a distance as he drove through the desert at sunrise.
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any good so far? do I have a hook?