Sunday short story – a short story on Sundays. You can either: choose to join and share yours; or read mine – either way you’ll be participating in the event.
Word Limit: 200-500 words.
The idea behind it is to think outside your major project. Being completely absorbed by the one project seems daunting and frustrating. I feel it could be like music; you can love classical but listen to a bit of rock to make you appreciate the finer melodies.
I’ll begin with a short story I wrote today.
He woke up, scrambled to the kitchen and placed the percolator on the stove. Before any trains of thought, coffee was needed. The whistle sound pierced the silent house. When the world slept; Mark created lives through black and white letters. Out of the kitchen window, the full moon shone over the people sleeping, it slowly sunk beyond the mountains with streaks of deep purple and black covered the sky, stars disappeared like street lamp posts. Mark sipped the steaming hot coffee and tip-toed on the floorboards to his study desk.
A new notebook lay open on the desk underneath the lamp like a sunbaker on a hot summers day. The smell of fresh paper excited Mark, a blank canvas to create a world that was unlike reality. He sat at his desk–his watch beeped, reminding him it was four-thirty in the morning. His mind was in between his conscious and subconscious, and it was the time to splurge his thoughts onto paper.
“The grey fedora hat tossed and bounced down the street with the wind like a dolphin leaping from the water to get a breath of air. The hat wanted to feel the heat from the sun all over its body, it ran down the road further and faster away from its owner.”
Before his wife and son begun their normal routine for school and work, Mark wrote til the sun crept into the study room, providing his space with warmth from its eons of wisdom.
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