… though I will undoubtedly be using this medium to assist with my Open University writing course. I tend to have a habit of writing more than I should! Hence needing my blog to post my latest exercise. Perhaps you can all comment on the quality of the writing too??
IMAGINING WRITING SPACES:
OK, I know it doesn’t really address the title of the assignment but this is what I have written in response.
Scene that is most suited to me:
Autumnal light shone blazingly through the large panes of glass that lined one wall of the room. The brightness was magnified by the white painted walls and the gleam from the chrome of the chairs. There was a hushed sigh of reverence from the other students in the library as Susan sat with head resting on hand, gazing sidelong out of the window. The screen of her laptop glowed as the curser flashed on a blank Word document. She knew she should have been writing. She had been sitting in her favourite room for half an hour now after getting up early, just to enjoy what was left of the morning sun. However, her eyes had wandered to the Sycamore Tree that burned red outside. Its leaves drifted to the road below burnishing the pavements. She had been watching a couple of Blue Tits flit about the boughs of the tree, pecking at the blackened bark before calling their alarm as a Magpie flew by.
Susan blinked and turned to look into the room she sat in. She started when she saw a pair of dark eyes peer over the rim of a cup at her. She subconsciously sniffed at the air and the comforting smell of roasted coffee reached her olfactory. Those eyes looked at her accusingly, knowing she should be writing. They made her feel very much like the day she had been caught dancing in her bedroom by her uncle. She couldn’t remember what he had said, but whatever it was it made her feel like she had been caught doing something wrong and something inside of her recoiled.
The owner of those eyes lowered the cup of steaming coffee revealing a handsome face with full lips and square jaw. Susan smiled shyly in reply. She knew he should have been working too instead of sneakily peaking at her. She watched as he picked up a paperback with something to do with tort written on the front and pretended like he was deep in thought. Susan turned to look at her computer screen and smirked. She began typing.
‘It was in the library that she first noticed him…’