*Well, I finally got the time to sit down and share some of my writings with you all. So I thought it would be fun to share an excerpt of what I am working on at the present. Thursday’s post will be completely different, but I thought I would to share what I have been working on.
With that being said, this is a rough draft at best. Still working through how I want things to be written and the over all feel. I am not sure yet if I will continue sharing excerpts from this story but we will cross that bridge when we get there. I am keeping this excerpt super short, simply because I am still working on the story, and what I am showing you is what I am happy with at the moment. So without anymore chatter from me, here is the untitled excerpt:
The rain tapped on the window of my New York apartment as the sound of the keys on my 1950’s typewriter filled the silence. Something about an old typewriter makes writing a joy unlike anything I have ever experienced. In between my job and the phone calls back home, I create an ambiance to work on my day dream. A cup of coffee in a pretty mug, Anthropologie candle lit, a stack of paper waiting to be fed through the typewriter I found at an antique shop back home. I sit at my desk and my book picks up where I left off. Then as quickly as the pace started, it ended. I exhale a frustrated breathe. Something just doesn’t feel right. I look at the clock, I realized I lost all track of time. The mail box is probably full as I have neglected to check it. I grab my keys and walk down the flight of stairs to the wall of mailboxes. I picked this apartment because it kind of reminded me of Audrey Hepburn’s apartment in Breakfast At Tiffany’s. Oozing charm at a rate that I could afford. Affordable character. My mail box was full, I really neglected my mail. I walk back up to my apartment. I walk through the door and remember that my plants need watering, so I water them. Then pour myself another cup of coffee and sift through the envelopes that hold bills and junk mail and come across a pink envelope. My sister’s no doubt. My mom never really quite understood my love for writing. Leaving the comforts of home for the big city hours away. My mom wanted me married with at least a baby on the way. following the footsteps of my older sister. She is married with three kids and a fourth on the way. As I open the beautiful elaborate invitation I see my youngest sister Amy’s name written in the fanciest font. Lace, glitter and frills. Amy all the way. Sighing, I pick up my phone and call my mom.