posted
Robbi could have been mistaken for a dare-devil network tekkie, if she'd been in electric blue. As it was, while she held herself precariously on top of the support beam, fingers under its rim, feet like a runner's at the starting blocks, she just was hoping not to fall to her death. Though she was wearing a gray jumpsuit, she had to trust no one would look up from the distant street and notice. She shifted forward again, reshuffling her feet so the left was front. Primates would have been proud of her form—knuckles down, hips rocking, brows low. Too sluggish, maybe, but forget dignity. Besides falling, she didn't want to screw this job up. She wasn't a network tekkie, but she was gonna try to be ... once she got off the six-inch steel balance beam.
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This story is a little over 5000, I'm looking more for volunteers to look at the whole story than to pick apart the opening here. Obviously it needs it, but it's in it's second draft alread, and I'd like some more structural feedback to get that squared away and then tackle the density here.
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