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I've been working on something new for the beginning 'For the Dying Sun'. I don't entirely know how this is working and I know there are some parts that need clarity and the flow is a bit off..I see the direction changing some, and the story gaining some length, dialogue, character interaction..I am in all of it right now, but the beginning seems to be important here..so, here it is.

They often birth on quiet, magical pools of the Orient Sea, a giant bulge of low barometric pressure bursting with a mad and furious freshness of life, then jet easterly on the torrent of a swift atmospheric stream, meeting the far-away frontier-land full of mystery, before moving over the the young and mystic Rocky Mountains, dipping South through farms and prairies and big wood barns, finding a basin of nourishment in the gorgeous and blue Gulf of Mexico, then climb the dangerous banks of Carolina, forming heavy freights of snow, barrelling across the busy sounds of the East, finally arriving for morning in the midst of our seasonal war of survival in New England. In this town, the winters are long and indecent. You don't mind the cold, you say? Maybe even find joy in the snow and holiday and all that happy stuff? Not here. Here, the cold is king.