Creative Writing Exercise
Apr. 15th, 2002 09:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravencallscrowsMorning broke, under damp, pewter skies over the Emerald City, and somewhat reluctantly, the man stirred and reclaimed both conscious and subconscious from the realm of Morpheus. Deciding that the diurnal rising was not yet an essential action, he turned to the warmth of his companion of five years, snuggled alongside her for sometime, before giving in to the inevitable and rising, somewhat reluctantly, to face the day.
Rising, and fumbling for glasses and a few other essential personal accoutrements next to the bed, he walked to the closet, and selected clothing almost at random- it wasn't as if it made much of a difference anyway- and dressed quietly in the filtered grey light. Adjourning to the bathroom, he grabbed his contact lenses for later insertion, and again noted the joys of having a low-maintenance hairstyle that looks little different regardless of whether or not it receives morning attention. Electing not to attend to it, he got a mug of water for the drive to work, then pulled his boots on, and somewhat reluctantly headed out the door.
The morning was not just merely overcast and interspersed with rain showers, it was also brisk, as he noticed when stopping to fill the car with petrol prior to taking the long drive south. Fortunately, the drive went reasonably quickly, and alone with his thoughts and voices from a radio signal emanating from a city across the northern border named after a long-dead foreign queen, he found himself at his desk within an hour, ready to take on the work week.
You, faithful reader, better hope i get my creative spark back soon, or i'm gonna have to keep writing these exercises just for the practice and polish that the story demands, and trust me, you probably don't want any more minutae of my life than you already get.
Rising, and fumbling for glasses and a few other essential personal accoutrements next to the bed, he walked to the closet, and selected clothing almost at random- it wasn't as if it made much of a difference anyway- and dressed quietly in the filtered grey light. Adjourning to the bathroom, he grabbed his contact lenses for later insertion, and again noted the joys of having a low-maintenance hairstyle that looks little different regardless of whether or not it receives morning attention. Electing not to attend to it, he got a mug of water for the drive to work, then pulled his boots on, and somewhat reluctantly headed out the door.
The morning was not just merely overcast and interspersed with rain showers, it was also brisk, as he noticed when stopping to fill the car with petrol prior to taking the long drive south. Fortunately, the drive went reasonably quickly, and alone with his thoughts and voices from a radio signal emanating from a city across the northern border named after a long-dead foreign queen, he found himself at his desk within an hour, ready to take on the work week.
You, faithful reader, better hope i get my creative spark back soon, or i'm gonna have to keep writing these exercises just for the practice and polish that the story demands, and trust me, you probably don't want any more minutae of my life than you already get.
