The night was cool and dry, with only a handful of clouds peppering the dark skies, allowing stars shine brightly through the window shades. Marcus Gaynes groaned sleepily, turned halfway around in his plush bed, shifting his weight to the side with a grunt and cursed, his arm searching for the cell phone on the bedside table.
Category: Prose (Page 1 of 3)
You’re yelling at me, destroying my concentration, as if I need another distraction to pull me away from my writing. Your undulating howls tear the air angrily, impatiently, mercilessly stealing everyone’s attention without regards to what it is they have abandoned for you. I wait for the whining to pass, listening to your wails, waiting for the tantrum to end so my brain can resume its function and concentrate, once again, on the page in front of me.
Robert Langstrum was unpleasantly bored. He woke up to the most beautiful sunny day, with white puffy clouds peppering the bright blue sky. The trees shifted pleasantly from side to side, dancing to the soft breeze. The grass was the very definition of green, gracefully crunching under bare feet with small drops of morning dew. Birds chirped merrily, but not too loudly as to be offensive to the ears; just pleasantly enough to add to the harmony of untouched nature.
I heard the words as they were shouted at my back in the hot morning sun. I grunted to myself, not the least bit surprised. I knew it was coming, I suspected it would be public and extravagant and very military-like. I was right, but not quite the way I anticipated it.