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Cobwebs hung from the rotting walls, sparkling in the odd ray of sunshine that passes through the thick layer of trees surrounding the cabin in the woods. The odd spider would scuttle in from the sun and return to his web, feasting on whatever small insect should have found himself entangled in the sticky thread. Green ivy poked through the numerous cracks in the aged wood and has started to rapidly multiply on the wall.
The shelves scattered around contained old tools, a wind up drill, a wooden mallet, a rusting saw with a decaying wooden handle to name a few. Bottles of gardening fluids sat on the shelf, the lids glued on with little extracts of liquid, built up on them over the many years.
Jack picked up one of these bottles, and read out loud the label; 'Keep your lawn in top condition! Grass greener'. He turned the bottle over and looked at the best by date, 'October 1971.
Jack sighed and replaced the bottle from where he had taken it as he once again glanced round the shed he had stumbled across. Perhaps the most peculiar thing in the shed, was not the rotting tools, or the seeping fluids but the bed in the corner.
In the far corner of the shed sat an old bed. One of the legs had snapped so it lay limp on the three remaining, good legs. Jack sauntered over to the bed, crouched down beside it and placed his hand on the mattress. Damp seethed through the mattress and jack could just make out the green bubbles frothing around his hand. It obviously hadn't been slept in for quite a while Jack thought, as he removed his hand and wiped it on his trousers.
Jack pulled himself up and took one last look around the shed. The walls still had ivy protruding through every possible gap, tools still sat on the shelves and bottles still released an odor Jack hadn't smelt before.
As he was moving towards the door, something caught his eye, in the far corner under a stack of cardboard boxes on a large shelf lay a bag. A normal bag would have been lost in the darkness, but this bag stood out, it seemed to be painted silver. Jack went back over to the bag and once again knelt down beside it...
Got this far and gave up, wasn't going anywhere
The shelves scattered around contained old tools, a wind up drill, a wooden mallet, a rusting saw with a decaying wooden handle to name a few. Bottles of gardening fluids sat on the shelf, the lids glued on with little extracts of liquid, built up on them over the many years.
Jack picked up one of these bottles, and read out loud the label; 'Keep your lawn in top condition! Grass greener'. He turned the bottle over and looked at the best by date, 'October 1971.
Jack sighed and replaced the bottle from where he had taken it as he once again glanced round the shed he had stumbled across. Perhaps the most peculiar thing in the shed, was not the rotting tools, or the seeping fluids but the bed in the corner.
In the far corner of the shed sat an old bed. One of the legs had snapped so it lay limp on the three remaining, good legs. Jack sauntered over to the bed, crouched down beside it and placed his hand on the mattress. Damp seethed through the mattress and jack could just make out the green bubbles frothing around his hand. It obviously hadn't been slept in for quite a while Jack thought, as he removed his hand and wiped it on his trousers.
Jack pulled himself up and took one last look around the shed. The walls still had ivy protruding through every possible gap, tools still sat on the shelves and bottles still released an odor Jack hadn't smelt before.
As he was moving towards the door, something caught his eye, in the far corner under a stack of cardboard boxes on a large shelf lay a bag. A normal bag would have been lost in the darkness, but this bag stood out, it seemed to be painted silver. Jack went back over to the bag and once again knelt down beside it...
Got this far and gave up, wasn't going anywhere
Yeah, I had quite a good image of the beginning. I think if you can continue it, it will be a great read.
For what you had down, it was a great opening. Littered with description and little touches that really gave it an abandoned shed-like feel, which is impressive. The first line, especially, stood out.
Good, certainly try and make something out of it; it's worth it.
Good, certainly try and make something out of it; it's worth it.
I've still got time, right?
Might try abnd finish it, and yes FFF, that's precisely what happened.
Might try abnd finish it, and yes FFF, that's precisely what happened.
He should have gone curb-crawling and brought a prostitute back to screw on the bed. Then the filth on the bed could have starte dto eat away at her flesh as he did his business. He could have mistook her screams of pain for pleasure, until the bed had eaten away at her so much that he thrust right through her back.
Or not.
Still, what ou had wasn't a bad start.
Or not.
Still, what ou had wasn't a bad start.
Yeah, I know that feeling man, it's happened to me a few times. Quite frustrating.
I suppose you just started writing with the hope that inspiration would dawn. And we've all done that.
What there was: very nice, but you can't judge half a painting.
What there was: very nice, but you can't judge half a painting.
"Got this far and gave up, wasn't going anywhere" quite right
quite?
quite
Cobwebs hung from the rotting walls, sparkling in the odd ray of sunshine that passes through the thick layer of trees surrounding the cabin in the woods. The odd spider would scuttle in from the sun and return to his web, feasting on whatever small insect should have found himself entangled in the sticky thread. Green ivy poked through the numerous cracks in the aged wood and has started to rapidly multiply on the wall.
The shelves scattered around contained old tools, a wind up drill, a wooden mallet, a rusting saw with a decaying wooden handle to name a few. Bottles of gardening fluids sat on the shelf, the lids glued on with little extracts of liquid, built up on them over the many years.
Jack picked up one of these bottles, and read out loud the label; 'Keep your lawn in top condition! Grass greener'. He turned the bottle over and looked at the best by date, 'October 1971.
Jack sighed and replaced the bottle from where he had taken it as he once again glanced round the shed he had stumbled across. Perhaps the most peculiar thing in the shed, was not the rotting tools, or the seeping fluids but the bed in the corner.
In the far corner of the shed sat an old bed. One of the legs had snapped so it lay limp on the three remaining, good legs. Jack sauntered over to the bed, crouched down beside it and placed his hand on the mattress. Damp seethed through the mattress and jack could just make out the green bubbles frothing around his hand. It obviously hadn't been slept in for quite a while Jack thought, as he removed his hand and wiped it on his trousers.
Jack pulled himself up and took one last look around the shed. The walls still had ivy protruding through every possible gap, tools still sat on the shelves and bottles still released an odor Jack hadn't smelt before.
As he was moving towards the door, something caught his eye, in the far corner under a stack of cardboard boxes on a large shelf lay a bag. A normal bag would have been lost in the darkness, but this bag stood out, it seemed to be painted silver. Jack went back over to the bag and once again knelt down beside it...
Got this far and gave up, wasn't going anywhere
The shelves scattered around contained old tools, a wind up drill, a wooden mallet, a rusting saw with a decaying wooden handle to name a few. Bottles of gardening fluids sat on the shelf, the lids glued on with little extracts of liquid, built up on them over the many years.
Jack picked up one of these bottles, and read out loud the label; 'Keep your lawn in top condition! Grass greener'. He turned the bottle over and looked at the best by date, 'October 1971.
Jack sighed and replaced the bottle from where he had taken it as he once again glanced round the shed he had stumbled across. Perhaps the most peculiar thing in the shed, was not the rotting tools, or the seeping fluids but the bed in the corner.
In the far corner of the shed sat an old bed. One of the legs had snapped so it lay limp on the three remaining, good legs. Jack sauntered over to the bed, crouched down beside it and placed his hand on the mattress. Damp seethed through the mattress and jack could just make out the green bubbles frothing around his hand. It obviously hadn't been slept in for quite a while Jack thought, as he removed his hand and wiped it on his trousers.
Jack pulled himself up and took one last look around the shed. The walls still had ivy protruding through every possible gap, tools still sat on the shelves and bottles still released an odor Jack hadn't smelt before.
As he was moving towards the door, something caught his eye, in the far corner under a stack of cardboard boxes on a large shelf lay a bag. A normal bag would have been lost in the darkness, but this bag stood out, it seemed to be painted silver. Jack went back over to the bag and once again knelt down beside it...
Got this far and gave up, wasn't going anywhere