Sketches...

I was about to post this with the title "Sketches from my Novel, the Drunk". But stopped myself, as the title is derivative of Jeff Buckley's posthumously released album "Sketches from My Sweetheart the Drunk". I love that title, and wish I'd come up with it myself. But I didn't, so shan't use it. Anyway, onto some sketches.

These are some passages from Chapter 1. Not the restaurant now. You foodies, always with the eating places. No, these are from the proposed novel. My thinking is I'll post sketches in 'regular' posts. However, I think once a chapter has been completed (or, roughly completed), I'll copy it into a post of its own, titled "Chapter X" ('X' being the chapter number). This way, I can stick proper links to each chapter on the side of the blog (see to your right). This'll make it easier for me to organise and find each part, but it will also be easier for you to read. So, there you go.
Here are the sketches:

1: She's Walking, Waiting On A Lift
She was walking along the road a while. She was on the road, the boy by the hedge, on the inside. The boy trod on dried mud, his soles overprinting tractor tyre treads.
"Will you stop that? You'll ruin your shoes"
She heard a diesel clunking van. She turned around, but there was no sign of it, save for the sound of course. She held on for a minute, the boy carrying on along the raised dirt. There it came, a large, white, rusting van. She stuck out her thumb, and it pulled over. Behind a hat on the dashboard, there was a dark haired man at the wheel. No one else. He lunged accross to push the door open.
"Howya. Where are you going?"
"Just into town there"
"What town?"
"Muck - where the road goes... Aren't you going there yourself?"
"Well, if that's where the road goes, that's where I'll go. There's no use fighting it. There's not much room to turn on this shit of a road. Hop in."
... (ellipsis (three dots) indicate there will be more here. There's a gap at the moment, which I want to fill)

The cab was large and* smelled of dry cigarette air and the green cardboard tree hanging from the rearview mirror. Aside from dust and mud and packets of cigarettes, it was empty.
"Are you waiting there long?" Before she could turn her head to him he pointed to the windscrreen and said*, "Oh, just in time, eh?" The wipers screached accross dry glass, but slapped back, pushing the water drops from the glass. They'd only just got there, and they were obviously not welcome, but more of their kind came along anyway.

************ (Asterisks (the little stars) indicate that we're looking at a different part of the chapter altogether. The new part may end up coming directly after the previous part, or there may be more in between.)
*CHANGES:
1. I added the following blue text to the above paragraph:
"Are you waiting there long?" Before she could turn her head to him he pointed to the windscrreen and said, "Oh, just in time eh?"
I wanted to have just the two questions, but looking again, I don't think it works. I added in that she hasn't replied before he mentions the rain. I think it provides a kind of flow that was missing in the paragraph. Strange to think you're writing something that doesn't happen.
2. I added "was large and" to the description of the cab.

2. They Meet the Law on Their Way into Town
They came upon him* as they turned around yet another random bend in the road. He was standing beside a car crumpled into the ditch. Water dripped from his cap, over his smock and joined a pool at his boots. He had his pen to his notebook, but was facing the van as it came round the bend. He raised his hand, and Tommy pulled over.
"How can I help you Gard?" The Gard looked straight accross the cab to the girl.
"Mary."
"Shea"
"Mary, what in God's name are you doing?" I'd've thought you'd have more sense..." his words drifted off as he looked at Mary, the boy, Tommy and back to Mary. She looked at the dashboard, and when she went to look back, she saw his head down, his face blushed. He looked up at Tommy and said "Well, what about you?"
...

"And, are there more of ye coming?"
"No sir. I'm on me lonesome" The Gard looked at him for a moment, then spoke accross his chest.
"Right Mary, anyway, you and the boy come with me. I'll drop you home."
Looking through the windshield at the road, she said "There's no need. Tommy here is bringing us."
"Mary." She didn't move her head. "Alright. Well, look here. This is a small town. We don't need any casual traders, let alone fucking philosophers. You make sure she gets home alright. Mary, I'll be phoning you at home in twenty minutes. Now, you may be out with me, but if you don't answer I'll be looking for Plato here." He looked at Tommy, even as he spoke to Mary.
...
*******
******* (Two rows of asterisks will mean the end of the sketches)

*CHANGES: I've changed "They came up to him" to "They came upon him". I originally wanted to use this phrase, but the unintended double entendre stopped me. I may yet change it again. The only real point here is that the Gard is there, waiting as they come around the corner.

So that's that for now. Comments will be appreciated. I guess there's loads of holes here, but trust me, I'll be filling them in as I try to complete the chapter.