Untitled
It’s around lunchtime, on one of those Sundays where the sky is white and featureless, and the light seems too tired to make anything look interesting. The kind of day that doesn’t make you feel guilty for letting it pass you by.
I glance out of the bay window, down into the street. A girl, probably in her mid-twenties, is walking unsteadily up the driveway to the door of the house opposite, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers. It’s quiet, just the faint hiss of traffic from somewhere in the distance. The girl is poking around in an enormous shoulder bag, looking for her keys. She’s been out all night: a one-night stand perhaps, or an uncomfortable, drunken night on a friend’s floor.
Tiny droplets of rain begin to settle on the glass; the girl looks up at the sky with a grimace. Just as she lowers her eyes to continue her search, the front door cracks and another girl is there, smiling a contagious smile. They both begin to laugh, and just then the skies open, and chase them indoors.
Hi, my name's Mark. I'm trying to come up with some ideas for a book. Think of this as my online writing notebook: ideas, stories, beginnings, endings. Things that just pop into my mind. I'm also on Twitter as @markeebee.
You can find out more about me here and look at the old stuff here. Click here to subscribe via RSS.
