Original One-shot: Cloudy Morning
Title: Cloudy Morning
Author: Andreah Crawford (me)
Series: Original one-shot
Timeline: Early 20th Century
Rating: G
Summary: A young girl waits for her town to awake.
Disclaimer: This work of fiction beongs to the author. Please do not steal.
A/N: This is something I wrote a few weeks ago while I was at the Square before work. I walked around, and the scenery spoke to me. This is what came out on paper. I'm not sure whether to leave this as is, or try to make a story around it.
The dark clouds in the even darker sky reflected her mood. It was an unusually chilly day in May. The railroad was devoid of its usual noise--the puff, puff of trains traveling through the town, en route to some more exotic location.
Even the brick road she had walked somehow seemed colder and less colorful. The dim lights from the lamp post over head shone on the bricks, exposing, instead of the normal shade of red, a more somber tone of light brown. The color of the mushy ground beneath the sparce areas of grass.
She sat on the ledge of her favorite building, the old church with the gargoyle statues. She always felt protected in this place, as if the stone figures were her very own guardian angels. And perhaps they were.
She closed her eyes as she heard the birds sing, bringing the morning with them, awaking the sun. The only building in this town to wake before the sun's rising was the French bakery down the street. And said bakery was only for the more wealthy citizens.
She wished she could even afford just a croissant, but she had only a few pennies in her pocket. So she would wait with the gargoyles until the rest of the town came alive. And maybe then, she would get some breakfast.
Author: Andreah Crawford (me)
Series: Original one-shot
Timeline: Early 20th Century
Rating: G
Summary: A young girl waits for her town to awake.
Disclaimer: This work of fiction beongs to the author. Please do not steal.
A/N: This is something I wrote a few weeks ago while I was at the Square before work. I walked around, and the scenery spoke to me. This is what came out on paper. I'm not sure whether to leave this as is, or try to make a story around it.
The dark clouds in the even darker sky reflected her mood. It was an unusually chilly day in May. The railroad was devoid of its usual noise--the puff, puff of trains traveling through the town, en route to some more exotic location.
Even the brick road she had walked somehow seemed colder and less colorful. The dim lights from the lamp post over head shone on the bricks, exposing, instead of the normal shade of red, a more somber tone of light brown. The color of the mushy ground beneath the sparce areas of grass.
She sat on the ledge of her favorite building, the old church with the gargoyle statues. She always felt protected in this place, as if the stone figures were her very own guardian angels. And perhaps they were.
She closed her eyes as she heard the birds sing, bringing the morning with them, awaking the sun. The only building in this town to wake before the sun's rising was the French bakery down the street. And said bakery was only for the more wealthy citizens.
She wished she could even afford just a croissant, but she had only a few pennies in her pocket. So she would wait with the gargoyles until the rest of the town came alive. And maybe then, she would get some breakfast.