A Piece of My Writing

   I like to read. I love to read. It is the #1 thing to do
in my free time. So the result? I have read a ton of books. At least, in my opinion. A couple years ago, I tried writing a book. I was... younger. It was a start, but not much of one. It wasn't that impressive, but after all it was my first time. I tried writing another one probably about a year ago. I was actually quite pleased with my writing but wasn't please with my characters situation in life - it seemed to close to something I had just read. She was a rich girl that had everything she's ever wanted - oh, except her brother who went off to fight in the Civil War. Nothing's wrong with that, not at all. But it seemed to much like Elsie Dinsmore. Which I love, don't get me wrong. I just don't want my book to be another Elsie Dinsmore. So with that discouraging thought, I discarded the book as something to work on later - to change later, because parts of it I still liked. Not that I had gotten that far. ha. Not even a chapter, but I had the story line in my head, right? Anyway, I decided to work on what I call Tales. Or Short Stories. They explain one scene in a small amount of words. I would practice writing until I could come up with a worthier story line. I wanted to share with you one of those Tales:

A young woman sat in a crowded train looking around at the coming and going people with and impatient air. She rested upon an iron bench, her back leaning against the stone wall of the station. Her hands toyed with her gloves as she glanced anxiously at a large clock hanging on the station wall: two minutes to five. She sighed and tapped her foot impatiently. Suddenly the five ‘O clock train screeched into the station, filling it with steam. The natural noise of a busy train station grew louder as men in uniforms poured out of the train, women shrieking with joy as they were reunited with brothers, husbands, lovers, or fathers. The young woman was on her feet in an instant, pushing her way through the crowd. Her eyes searched through the men looking for the one that would make her heart leap for joy. She heard a voice from behind her calling her name, “Evelyn? Is that you?” Evelyn turned with joy on her face, “Jim? Oh Jim, you’re back!” Jim weaved his way through the crowd to her, reaching for her hands hold in his firm grasp. He stood there for a moment, looking down into her smiling face before he replied, “Yes my dear, little, sister, I’m back…..” Tears of joy streamed down her faces as she was enveloped in a hug from her big brother. “….I’m home.” He finished in a whisper.

                                                                                <3 Eva

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P.s. I am not meant to be the person in the story. I wrote this before I made this blog, and well, Evelyn is one of my favorite names so that’s what I choose for this story.