Product of the first night- Creative writing Week 1

It has been five months since I embarked on this cerebral adventure. It was always my intention to seek some professional guidance, and I had my first group based lesson last week. It was both thrilling and petrifying. I never imagined how nervous I would be reading something I had written to strangers.

I was laid bare for a few minutes. It is one thing to post your work (I use the term very loosely) on the internet- a decision I mulled over for many weeks- and quite another to read your work to people, look them in the eye and get their immediate reaction.

But in the spirit in which I set out.....here is my first short tale penned while sitting between 'Matt' and 'Helen' sweating slightly and feeling incredibly dull witted.

I wondered what she was doing there, walking the street alone.

I had stirred from my sleep and looked out the window, unsure at first what the white shiny object was moving in my grey morning. Lazy eyes and lazy brain unsure of the world.

I had pulled the blanket up to my face, cloaking my presence. Why had I done that?

Black hair glistened as if mist had fallen ever so lightly, but no darkening of the road to suggest any moisture. The white dress hung loosely over her frame.

It was like a slow reckoning.

She moved with purpose taking small steps on barefeet, walking away from my home, where I hid.

A coolness fell on my skin, so strange under blankets to feel this sensation. Similar to when you find a spider- that second you suck in your breath quick and hard. Skin taut, ready to run but horribly cold with shock.

I hoped my neighbours remained in their homes. The morning seemed menacing somehow.

She turned the corner and out of my sight. The blood began to return through to the smallest of veins, finding their way through a path that had been frozen and locked. As if everything for a moment while I watched her walk was dead.