Adumbration
10-19-2010, 02:55 PM
So. After a long, long break in creative writing, I've found myself writing again. This thread is mainly meant for these new creations to get feedback, critique, attacks by grammar nazis (seriously, I would appreciate if someone looked over my language - I'm good enough to fool a spell checker, but sometimes I'm a bit unsure over some choice words and sentences) as well as motivation to keep writing.
With no further introduction, here's what I worked on tonight. It's not finished - far from it - but it's the first creative thing I've written in a few years. If I can find the motivation and ideas, I will continue it - if not, I'll try and pick up some new topic.
The cab was dark, damp and smelly. The dampness came from the sodden clothes he wore, the darkness from the clouds overhead, and the smell from the equally wet monkey on his lap. It was one of those small, skinny things with long, brown fur. He scratched it, whispering soothingly in its ear. Finally it stopped fussing with his coat, curled up and sighed.
"Turn right from here.”
”Where are we heading?”
”Just drive.”
The car curved. The driver's voice was flat. Uncaring.
”Just saying. It would be much easier if you just told me the address. I might know a shortcut.”
The man's voice was tired. Gravelly from grief. He looked up from the monkey on his lap, met the driver's gaze on the rear view mirror. Long, straight brown hair. Dirty. Wet. Pale gray eyes. Face set in a frown, jaw locked with grief. A muscle tensing in his cheek.
Dark gray jeans. No coat. Young.
”I don't have any money.”
Silence.
After a few minutes, the car rolled to a stop.
”You have a home I could drive you to? Maybe someone who could pay for you? Mother? Father? Girlfriend?”
The meter had run up to a sizable chunk of cash.
”No.”
The man looked away.
”Police station, maybe?”
”No police.”
”You're not leaving me with a whole lot of options, sonny.”
The man looked down, leaning forward. Pulling something from the back of his jeans. The driver couldn't see what, but there was no mistaking the audible click. He didn't wait around for more, moving surprisingly fast for a man of his age. He took the car keys, popped the door open and ran for it.
The man sighed and put away the lighter. Leaving the monkey in the back seat, he went about hotwiring the car and breaking into the cash box.
Damn I'm rusty...
With no further introduction, here's what I worked on tonight. It's not finished - far from it - but it's the first creative thing I've written in a few years. If I can find the motivation and ideas, I will continue it - if not, I'll try and pick up some new topic.
The cab was dark, damp and smelly. The dampness came from the sodden clothes he wore, the darkness from the clouds overhead, and the smell from the equally wet monkey on his lap. It was one of those small, skinny things with long, brown fur. He scratched it, whispering soothingly in its ear. Finally it stopped fussing with his coat, curled up and sighed.
"Turn right from here.”
”Where are we heading?”
”Just drive.”
The car curved. The driver's voice was flat. Uncaring.
”Just saying. It would be much easier if you just told me the address. I might know a shortcut.”
The man's voice was tired. Gravelly from grief. He looked up from the monkey on his lap, met the driver's gaze on the rear view mirror. Long, straight brown hair. Dirty. Wet. Pale gray eyes. Face set in a frown, jaw locked with grief. A muscle tensing in his cheek.
Dark gray jeans. No coat. Young.
”I don't have any money.”
Silence.
After a few minutes, the car rolled to a stop.
”You have a home I could drive you to? Maybe someone who could pay for you? Mother? Father? Girlfriend?”
The meter had run up to a sizable chunk of cash.
”No.”
The man looked away.
”Police station, maybe?”
”No police.”
”You're not leaving me with a whole lot of options, sonny.”
The man looked down, leaning forward. Pulling something from the back of his jeans. The driver couldn't see what, but there was no mistaking the audible click. He didn't wait around for more, moving surprisingly fast for a man of his age. He took the car keys, popped the door open and ran for it.
The man sighed and put away the lighter. Leaving the monkey in the back seat, he went about hotwiring the car and breaking into the cash box.
Damn I'm rusty...