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Combing through his greasy hair, my gaze rested on his crooked little finger plucking hungrily at the hole in the seat, which Sam was always “just about to go and fix”. I played with my pen, as I watched him play with his Ketchup bottle and spoon. I could tell he was enjoying himself, just by the look in his cloudy eyes. I snapped away from the thoughts in my head, I didn’t need a broken man like him. I could have anyone - if I played my cards right.
Flicking back to the Herald’s Daily Crossword, I pondered over the alternate five-letter word for a sailing vessel. My mind stuck for the answer, went on to explore other ideas. I rubbed the coarse grain of the paper, playing with the shadows cast by a pounding sun. I moved my fingers in rhythm to the constant wailing of the neon clock, I could feel his eyes on me again. I felt them clawing all over me, yet I did nothing to stop it: he knew he could never have me. I relaxed at the thought of the power I held over him, I could mould his will in anyway I wanted.
A cool wave washed over The Mermaid, showering us with welcomed shelter from the sun. I looked at them. I felt their discontent, their desires, their dreams, and their hopelessness. We are the background to the dusty city streets. We aren’t lucky and we aren’t rich, few of us are happy.
The shade allowed me to continue with my crossword, not that I was particularly bothered with it, it just helped to pass the time. A nine-letter word for one who watches: what a shame his name didn’t fit the number of boxes. Perfectly aware he was watching me I called out to Sammy. I knew he had no idea about crosswords, let alone the construction of simple sentences, I did it to wind-up my stalker on the other side of the room.
Shifting on my rickety stool to avoid another sharp beam of light I explored the possible answers to “One who watches”. I suppose we all watch from behind these murky glass windows, we spectate, and we allow the world to carry on without us. I watch them four days a week, sipping their brews, pondering where they went wrong in life, occasionally I follow an individual’s gaze up into the clouds. I pencilled in the word “Spectator” - it fitted the nine boxes.
Satisfied with myself, I glided through the tables collecting a few mugs and dirty plates. I felt him watching again, those piercing eyes drinking in my elegant features. I sauntered back over to the hatch and rested the plates on the board. I perched on the stool in full view of my spectator, lifting my skirt beyond my thigh.
Looking through the hatch between out parallel worlds, I admired Sam and his skill when it came to cooking. He might not cook any masterpieces, but he served up what we all wanted: simple, honest food. I knew how jealous he was of Sam and the hours I spent with him, I lifted my skirt a little higher. I called out another clue to my Sammy, he had not the scrappiest idea when it came to words. I felt guilty when he stammered out his problems.
Sorry I had embarrassed my oldest friend; I gazed for the hundredth time that hour, away from my spectator, beyond the dusty buildings and up into the clouds.
Nitro_goat
Flicking back to the Herald’s Daily Crossword, I pondered over the alternate five-letter word for a sailing vessel. My mind stuck for the answer, went on to explore other ideas. I rubbed the coarse grain of the paper, playing with the shadows cast by a pounding sun. I moved my fingers in rhythm to the constant wailing of the neon clock, I could feel his eyes on me again. I felt them clawing all over me, yet I did nothing to stop it: he knew he could never have me. I relaxed at the thought of the power I held over him, I could mould his will in anyway I wanted.
A cool wave washed over The Mermaid, showering us with welcomed shelter from the sun. I looked at them. I felt their discontent, their desires, their dreams, and their hopelessness. We are the background to the dusty city streets. We aren’t lucky and we aren’t rich, few of us are happy.
The shade allowed me to continue with my crossword, not that I was particularly bothered with it, it just helped to pass the time. A nine-letter word for one who watches: what a shame his name didn’t fit the number of boxes. Perfectly aware he was watching me I called out to Sammy. I knew he had no idea about crosswords, let alone the construction of simple sentences, I did it to wind-up my stalker on the other side of the room.
Shifting on my rickety stool to avoid another sharp beam of light I explored the possible answers to “One who watches”. I suppose we all watch from behind these murky glass windows, we spectate, and we allow the world to carry on without us. I watch them four days a week, sipping their brews, pondering where they went wrong in life, occasionally I follow an individual’s gaze up into the clouds. I pencilled in the word “Spectator” - it fitted the nine boxes.
Satisfied with myself, I glided through the tables collecting a few mugs and dirty plates. I felt him watching again, those piercing eyes drinking in my elegant features. I sauntered back over to the hatch and rested the plates on the board. I perched on the stool in full view of my spectator, lifting my skirt beyond my thigh.
Looking through the hatch between out parallel worlds, I admired Sam and his skill when it came to cooking. He might not cook any masterpieces, but he served up what we all wanted: simple, honest food. I knew how jealous he was of Sam and the hours I spent with him, I lifted my skirt a little higher. I called out another clue to my Sammy, he had not the scrappiest idea when it came to words. I felt guilty when he stammered out his problems.
Sorry I had embarrassed my oldest friend; I gazed for the hundredth time that hour, away from my spectator, beyond the dusty buildings and up into the clouds.
Nitro_goat
Hey, thanks for your comment.
It's an alternate viewpoint of a character from another story and i thought i'd have a go at creating the feelings and mindset of a very isolated character in the novel.
It's an alternate viewpoint of a character from another story and i thought i'd have a go at creating the feelings and mindset of a very isolated character in the novel.
Interesting read, though it feels like I've come in at the middle and missed the end of the story somehow.
Who are the characters and what were they doing before this began? They don't seem to have a purpose or much narrative - or is that intentional?
Who are the characters and what were they doing before this began? They don't seem to have a purpose or much narrative - or is that intentional?
Combing through his greasy hair, my gaze rested on his crooked little finger plucking hungrily at the hole in the seat, which Sam was always “just about to go and fix”. I played with my pen, as I watched him play with his Ketchup bottle and spoon. I could tell he was enjoying himself, just by the look in his cloudy eyes. I snapped away from the thoughts in my head, I didn’t need a broken man like him. I could have anyone - if I played my cards right.
Flicking back to the Herald’s Daily Crossword, I pondered over the alternate five-letter word for a sailing vessel. My mind stuck for the answer, went on to explore other ideas. I rubbed the coarse grain of the paper, playing with the shadows cast by a pounding sun. I moved my fingers in rhythm to the constant wailing of the neon clock, I could feel his eyes on me again. I felt them clawing all over me, yet I did nothing to stop it: he knew he could never have me. I relaxed at the thought of the power I held over him, I could mould his will in anyway I wanted.
A cool wave washed over The Mermaid, showering us with welcomed shelter from the sun. I looked at them. I felt their discontent, their desires, their dreams, and their hopelessness. We are the background to the dusty city streets. We aren’t lucky and we aren’t rich, few of us are happy.
The shade allowed me to continue with my crossword, not that I was particularly bothered with it, it just helped to pass the time. A nine-letter word for one who watches: what a shame his name didn’t fit the number of boxes. Perfectly aware he was watching me I called out to Sammy. I knew he had no idea about crosswords, let alone the construction of simple sentences, I did it to wind-up my stalker on the other side of the room.
Shifting on my rickety stool to avoid another sharp beam of light I explored the possible answers to “One who watches”. I suppose we all watch from behind these murky glass windows, we spectate, and we allow the world to carry on without us. I watch them four days a week, sipping their brews, pondering where they went wrong in life, occasionally I follow an individual’s gaze up into the clouds. I pencilled in the word “Spectator” - it fitted the nine boxes.
Satisfied with myself, I glided through the tables collecting a few mugs and dirty plates. I felt him watching again, those piercing eyes drinking in my elegant features. I sauntered back over to the hatch and rested the plates on the board. I perched on the stool in full view of my spectator, lifting my skirt beyond my thigh.
Looking through the hatch between out parallel worlds, I admired Sam and his skill when it came to cooking. He might not cook any masterpieces, but he served up what we all wanted: simple, honest food. I knew how jealous he was of Sam and the hours I spent with him, I lifted my skirt a little higher. I called out another clue to my Sammy, he had not the scrappiest idea when it came to words. I felt guilty when he stammered out his problems.
Sorry I had embarrassed my oldest friend; I gazed for the hundredth time that hour, away from my spectator, beyond the dusty buildings and up into the clouds.
Nitro_goat
Flicking back to the Herald’s Daily Crossword, I pondered over the alternate five-letter word for a sailing vessel. My mind stuck for the answer, went on to explore other ideas. I rubbed the coarse grain of the paper, playing with the shadows cast by a pounding sun. I moved my fingers in rhythm to the constant wailing of the neon clock, I could feel his eyes on me again. I felt them clawing all over me, yet I did nothing to stop it: he knew he could never have me. I relaxed at the thought of the power I held over him, I could mould his will in anyway I wanted.
A cool wave washed over The Mermaid, showering us with welcomed shelter from the sun. I looked at them. I felt their discontent, their desires, their dreams, and their hopelessness. We are the background to the dusty city streets. We aren’t lucky and we aren’t rich, few of us are happy.
The shade allowed me to continue with my crossword, not that I was particularly bothered with it, it just helped to pass the time. A nine-letter word for one who watches: what a shame his name didn’t fit the number of boxes. Perfectly aware he was watching me I called out to Sammy. I knew he had no idea about crosswords, let alone the construction of simple sentences, I did it to wind-up my stalker on the other side of the room.
Shifting on my rickety stool to avoid another sharp beam of light I explored the possible answers to “One who watches”. I suppose we all watch from behind these murky glass windows, we spectate, and we allow the world to carry on without us. I watch them four days a week, sipping their brews, pondering where they went wrong in life, occasionally I follow an individual’s gaze up into the clouds. I pencilled in the word “Spectator” - it fitted the nine boxes.
Satisfied with myself, I glided through the tables collecting a few mugs and dirty plates. I felt him watching again, those piercing eyes drinking in my elegant features. I sauntered back over to the hatch and rested the plates on the board. I perched on the stool in full view of my spectator, lifting my skirt beyond my thigh.
Looking through the hatch between out parallel worlds, I admired Sam and his skill when it came to cooking. He might not cook any masterpieces, but he served up what we all wanted: simple, honest food. I knew how jealous he was of Sam and the hours I spent with him, I lifted my skirt a little higher. I called out another clue to my Sammy, he had not the scrappiest idea when it came to words. I felt guilty when he stammered out his problems.
Sorry I had embarrassed my oldest friend; I gazed for the hundredth time that hour, away from my spectator, beyond the dusty buildings and up into the clouds.
Nitro_goat