Post by Rach_E_L on Mar 4, 2014 19:23:31 GMT 1
[30 Days of SA Event //ming]
For once, it wasn't snowing in Alegra. Of course, it wasn't sunny, but it was a start. Victor liked snow as much as the next person, but it was nice to have the town half warm for a change.
The bookstore was closed today. No one came in mid-week anyway. They were all too busy with jobs or school or whatever they deemed worthy enough to spend their free time. He usually never went out of the bookstore; he had nothing else to do, and the more he was open, the more chance of someone coming in. The only person to visit him this week was Kayla, but she could hardly count as she came in every day to visit her 'darling' older brother.
His black shoes tapped gently on the pavement as he wandered down the streets. Considering he had lived here for years, it was appalling that he had never explored the city in depth. He knew his way to the basic essentials such as food, clothing and medical shops, but he didn't know what else was in town. He walked past a music shop where a girl with flame red hair was mildly dancing behind the counter; she had no customers in her shop either.
The man watched the sun dip into the horizon, blessing the clouds with a rainbow of pinks, purples, oranges and yellows against a gradient blue background. He loved sunsets, and had done ever since he was a child. They always inspired him to write something as beautiful as the sight reflected in his glasses - but of course, with a book shop to run, he didn't get the time for such luxuries anymore.
Maybe I should sit and do some writing now, he thought airily, then noticed a small problem. No paper or writing equipment meant that he couldn't write. It was a shame, he noted, but maybe for the best. He didn't know where to sit to write, or even what he would write. Had it really been that long since he had left his italic handwriting on a homemade poem? Had it been that long since he had done anything fun? He didn't even go to the gym as much as he used to; he didn't even know if Alegra had a gym.
What was the last thing he wrote? Was it the remake of his old thoughts? That piece of paper was still on his bedside table, half scrunched up and smothered with untidy scribbles. A remake of what he had described to himself, all those years ago before he came to the Game World and attended Scream Academy. He remembered looking at a fire and imagining a person made from the flames and coals; the contrast in colour was striking and inspiring. He knew he should write descriptions of imaginary people more.
It was a sunset for questions, resolutions and thoughts.
For once, it wasn't snowing in Alegra. Of course, it wasn't sunny, but it was a start. Victor liked snow as much as the next person, but it was nice to have the town half warm for a change.
The bookstore was closed today. No one came in mid-week anyway. They were all too busy with jobs or school or whatever they deemed worthy enough to spend their free time. He usually never went out of the bookstore; he had nothing else to do, and the more he was open, the more chance of someone coming in. The only person to visit him this week was Kayla, but she could hardly count as she came in every day to visit her 'darling' older brother.
His black shoes tapped gently on the pavement as he wandered down the streets. Considering he had lived here for years, it was appalling that he had never explored the city in depth. He knew his way to the basic essentials such as food, clothing and medical shops, but he didn't know what else was in town. He walked past a music shop where a girl with flame red hair was mildly dancing behind the counter; she had no customers in her shop either.
The man watched the sun dip into the horizon, blessing the clouds with a rainbow of pinks, purples, oranges and yellows against a gradient blue background. He loved sunsets, and had done ever since he was a child. They always inspired him to write something as beautiful as the sight reflected in his glasses - but of course, with a book shop to run, he didn't get the time for such luxuries anymore.
Maybe I should sit and do some writing now, he thought airily, then noticed a small problem. No paper or writing equipment meant that he couldn't write. It was a shame, he noted, but maybe for the best. He didn't know where to sit to write, or even what he would write. Had it really been that long since he had left his italic handwriting on a homemade poem? Had it been that long since he had done anything fun? He didn't even go to the gym as much as he used to; he didn't even know if Alegra had a gym.
What was the last thing he wrote? Was it the remake of his old thoughts? That piece of paper was still on his bedside table, half scrunched up and smothered with untidy scribbles. A remake of what he had described to himself, all those years ago before he came to the Game World and attended Scream Academy. He remembered looking at a fire and imagining a person made from the flames and coals; the contrast in colour was striking and inspiring. He knew he should write descriptions of imaginary people more.
It was a sunset for questions, resolutions and thoughts.