She shed her clothes in the hallways, after making sure that no one else was home. Steam from the hot water of the bath slowly circled, filling the room. She eased her breathing and pressed down on her legs. They were still shaking furiously from the dream. The icy feeling had stayed with her, even though the images of the thunderous sky overhead had long since disappeared. A layer of ice formed on the window, cracked and spreading outward in fingerlike spindles. Jess rested her fingertips on it as she waited. It didn’t feel cold, but she did. Her bones ached, her muscles were strained from the intense walk that she had felt. It wasn’t real, but she felt it. It was impossible, but it had happened.
Her fingers ruffled through her hair one more time. Jess tried to convince herself that she wasn’t soaking wet, that it was all a dream. The hollow feeling that had carved itself inside of her seemed unwilling to let go. She tested the water with her toes, then slowly lowered herself in. The heat prickled on her skin, almost scalding hot at first. Jess curled up in the water, feeling it floating across her skin. Her breathing steadied further as warmth spread through the rest of her body.She closed her eyes, but for a moment too long and was back in the field, staring up at an angry, darkened sky. She pried her eyes open and gasped. The force of her breath knocked her back into reality. Jess stared at the running water, her hazel eyes intense, wide. She tested her eyes, blinking for moments too long and felt herself falling into the other reality, into the dream. Jess stretched out her legs in front of her and turned the water off. How long could she go without sleep?
Slowly, I am getting better at editing. I start to see the patterns in my own writing, and I try to pry them back. Forcing my words, my sentences to be more open, fluid, and less repetitive. This excites me, actually. For once, I think the prospect of editing my work is fantastic. Being able to recreate the flow, craft each sentence into being full and complete. This particular descriptive passage I liked the first time around, but with one sweep of editing, I like it even more. I still remain enthusiastic over this piece, and I hope I can find an agent out there that feels the same.