The ceiling fan’s laconic twirling seemed to be holding the attention of the middle aged woman sitting on the red plastic chair, she’d probably been staring at it for at least ten minutes. It was clear that she didn’t want to initiate or receive eye contact from anyone, everyone in that room was happy to oblige her. The man with long and pointy beard was watching the ceiling too, his face seemed calm but his left foot was drawing an interesting pattern on the ground.
The stories in this blog are first draft stories with minimal editing, sort of like a practice blog.
Saturday, 14 November 2015
Tuesday, 3 November 2015
She looked down at her gown as she got off the bus, the engine oil stain from the mechanic’s overall had spread a little wider. She worried about getting the stain off, wearing a white uniform frayed the ends of her patience. The thing attracted more stains than a young girl at a boys boarding house would magnet eyes and she spent a good chunk of her salary on bleach and detergent.