January 17, 2009

On the Spot

Since I really don't know what to say, I'll write a bit of prose on-the-spot. I apologize if it's awful; I haven't written any prose in ages.


She could hear it -- the rain splish-splashing against the window, tiptoeing across the roof. She shivered. It wasn't her fault that it was so cold outside.

She tucked her legs closer to her chest, tugging on the thin blanket, squeezing her shoulders close together. Too tired to think about anything except the freezing cold and sleep, she closed her eyes slowly.

It was then that she heard the sirens.

She jerked awake and lay there in the dark for a few moments, her breathing rapid. There was a heavy silence.

Then she heard it again. Ambulance, she thought.


Q said...

That's very nice. I can hear undertones of poetry in there.

Holly said...

Rather riveting.

Maya Ganesan said...

It's really that good? Wow.

Anonymous said...

Q's right. It definitely has a poets touch and attention to detail. I like :) Is it from an actual story or just a random tidbit?

Maya Ganesan said...

Random tidbit :)