Page 49 of Write or Wrong


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A loud thud caused him to jolt. Dust and plaster puffed out of places in the wall. Another thud. Followed by another.

Someone was knocking down his wall.

His mouth opened to shout—something, he didn’t know what—but it was too late.

Plaster and sound exploded inward and knocked him on his ass.

He didn’t move for at least a minute as his mind tried to process what had just happened. He coughed and waved futilely at the white cloud covering his vision.

What. The. Fuck?

“Nikki!” he yelled.

“Oh my God! Asa?”

He could hear her, but he couldn’t see her.

He couldn’t see anything.

He coughed again, harder.

Plaster dust settled slowly around him like miniscule snowflakes in a snow globe.

“Asa, are you okay?”

Was he okay?

He continued to cough and pushed his glasses to the top of his head.

It didn’t help much. He was still surrounded by a cloud of white dust. Like a wizard’s house party in his bedroom.

“Asa?” Nikki’s voice came closer.

“I’m not—” He stopped and growled, looking around at the remains of the bedroom. “I’m not wearing…anything.”

He struggled to his feet. Chunks of plaster and splintered wood rolled off him. He brushed away some of the debris but it made no difference. He was covered.

Bleck. It was in his mouth.

He coughed more.

What the fuck had Nikki done now?

“Asa! I thought you were at work!” Nikki hollered through the fog.

Right. If he’d been at work what? He’dnotnotice an entire wall of his bedroom was gone?

He found his damp towel among the rubble and quickly covered himself.

“What the fuck happened?” he asked, stepping through the mess and ignoring the way it cut at his bare feet.

“Are you mad? You sound mad.”

That wasn’t Nikki.

He cleared his room and stepped into the sunlit workspace that used to be a formal dining room.

Nikki, in safety goggles and a hot pink work helmet, and gray workman’s overalls, held an electric saw in one hand.

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