holdendeman
October 3rd, 2011, 05:12 PM
I wrote this intro to a novel I'm gonna write and make millions ( ;) )... Comments? Suggestions? Instructive Critisism? Thanks!
The single hint that exposed the fiction of my vision, thought blatant, left me astonishingly puzzled. I was much older than myself, possibly in my late twenties, trudging along the maculate streets of New York City. I glanced at the mysterious silver watch strapped around my wrist, blue jewels encrusted around each number. It would be midnight in a half hour. Lights dazzled my vision, further disorientating my confused thoughts. I soon realized that my feet were pumping faster than my endurance could ever last; though many vague voices in my mind implored that I continue running, claiming it is crucial. Pedestrians even cleared a path for me to avoid collision. I obeyed my conscience despite that I had no choice. I spotted a bald man weaving through hordes of tourists on the street perpendicular to mine. He carried a rusty suitcase in his left hand. Gasping for breath, I immediately cut across the street hoping to intersect with the mysterious yet familiar figure. His head snapped in my direction, revealing my presents. Our paces simultaneously quickened, though I knew I wouldn’t last long. Suddenly the stranger turned into an abandoned alleyway. I hesitated before following. He slowed, a dead end blocking his path.
I realized that we were both reasonably dressed, he in a tuxedo, I in a brown skirt and high heels. A smirk crept along my face, aware that he is inevitably cornered. He seemed unsettled, if not almost as relaxed as I. Suddenly my body jerked into a doorway to my right.
Laughter was the last I heard before awakening to the sound of birds chirping jubilantly in the distance. Warm sunlight bathed my face, exaggerating the cool feeling of the sweat that coated all around my body. My mind raced, attempting to derive some secret meaning from my dream.
The single hint that exposed the fiction of my vision, thought blatant, left me astonishingly puzzled. I was much older than myself, possibly in my late twenties, trudging along the maculate streets of New York City. I glanced at the mysterious silver watch strapped around my wrist, blue jewels encrusted around each number. It would be midnight in a half hour. Lights dazzled my vision, further disorientating my confused thoughts. I soon realized that my feet were pumping faster than my endurance could ever last; though many vague voices in my mind implored that I continue running, claiming it is crucial. Pedestrians even cleared a path for me to avoid collision. I obeyed my conscience despite that I had no choice. I spotted a bald man weaving through hordes of tourists on the street perpendicular to mine. He carried a rusty suitcase in his left hand. Gasping for breath, I immediately cut across the street hoping to intersect with the mysterious yet familiar figure. His head snapped in my direction, revealing my presents. Our paces simultaneously quickened, though I knew I wouldn’t last long. Suddenly the stranger turned into an abandoned alleyway. I hesitated before following. He slowed, a dead end blocking his path.
I realized that we were both reasonably dressed, he in a tuxedo, I in a brown skirt and high heels. A smirk crept along my face, aware that he is inevitably cornered. He seemed unsettled, if not almost as relaxed as I. Suddenly my body jerked into a doorway to my right.
Laughter was the last I heard before awakening to the sound of birds chirping jubilantly in the distance. Warm sunlight bathed my face, exaggerating the cool feeling of the sweat that coated all around my body. My mind raced, attempting to derive some secret meaning from my dream.