Use as many of the words in the following list in your freewrite today as you can. Any form of the word will do. Read through them first in case you have to grab a dictionary before you start.

begin, river, tunnel, slick, stomach, mark, stairway, machine, city, generator, draggle: To make dirty by dragging over ground, mud, dirt, etc. verb intr. 1. To become dirty by being dragged. 2. To trail or follow. [Frequentative of drag.]

We were far away from the city and it's machines, and I watched my father's hands that had stayed busy for so many years coaxing the generators to continue pumping electrical current through a deteriorating metropolis. He seemed to be doing well at the moment. The fresh air agreed with him. His color was good, and his eyes were sparkling. Thankfully, it was his turn to ride, but he wouldn't stay on the wagon for his entire turn. A wheel would wobble or a hinge would snap and he'd be down to do what he could to fix things so that we could continue at full speed to the river. Our goal was to cross it during the last of the daylight hours.

We had been through the worst of it. At the beginning I had worried about wearing man's pants. Got over that. Then I worried about the hems of the legs draggling as we scurried like rats through the city's underground tunnels. Had to get over that when we were forced to crawl on our stomachs over slick rock through an opening that had almost been obliterated during the last quake.

I worried so about him then. I had to fight to bring him along. He was just over the age limit that our leader wanted to include in our escape team, but my conscience wouldn't let me leave without him. My mother had passed away just a few months ago, and he relied on me so fully still that leaving would have killed him. So I begged and pleaded. He was in good health. Slender and strong. Not to mention his skill. My father had always been able to do anything with nothing. Whether it was fixing or creating or innovating, his mind was as clear and steady as any man in his prime. Already he had proven well worth making the exception.

However, the city would miss him rather quickly. His services were crucial. When they missed him, would they miss the rest of us? How long would it be before they decided to search? Or to pursue?

In the end he had requested a two-week leave of absence that was unexpectedly granted and that appeared to be a sign not only to me, but to the others in charge of making the final decision. In two weeks when he didn't show up, we would be well into the mountains, if not beyond them, and virtually impossible to find.

Still he was older. Had there been a way to siphon my strength into him, I would have gladly done it. I had plenty to share, thanks to the adrenaline pumped through the escape and the eagerness to start a new life. But that was impossible, and there was no escaping the fact that his energy gave out before his will did. His hip disliked climbing stairways, much less rugged terrain, and my heart caught in my throat whenever he seemed to draggle at the back of the group, struggling to hide the limp that set in whenever he had had enough walking. I was so relieved when we had acquired the one wagon when we were well outside the city, deep in the countryside where we were able to slow our pace somewhat. Not to mention that it was well stocked with provisions to keep us fed and dry as we continued on.

There was one other besides Dad that had teetered on the edge of acceptance into the plan--Trelease Cinders, five months along with child. Her husband Bernard was a ringleader of our group, and had grown increasingly concerned for his family as our plans were delayed by natural havoc in the city--the quake and then the continuous rains that had filled the underground tunnels that constituted our escape route. As each month passed she grew heavier, and naturally slower. I knew her personally and how she had continued walking and doing all she could to remain limber and healthy enough to make the journey. Had we had to wait another month, they would have had to stay behind. Not only would she have been too slow, but what if the baby came before we reached our destination?

She too had held up well during the early stages of the run, but tired long before Dad and had so much at stake. She and her husband --a ringleader of our group--wanted desperately for their child to know something besides a life of slavery and poverty. So it was Trelease and my father shared the buckboard of the wagon at the present time, but there would come a time when others would want a turn. I prayed that something would keep my father pinned to the seat until it was really time for him to leave it. He needed to rest as he could before we hit the mountains. We would be traveling all night to reach them.