Music's blaring in my ears through my earbuds. The feeling of people harshly typing the keys on old keyboards vibrate down the long room-length, yellow-brown desks. Atop the desks are black rimmed mirrors to the worldwide network of the internet, flashing with colours and notifications. Soft gliding sounds of the mice against the wood are only just making it over the hum of my music. The yellow, carpet-covered walls have pictures, newspaper articles, posters and pins lingering everywhere. The clocks seconds slow down if I look at it for too long, making the wait for the school bell seem further and further away than it already is. The occasional rough scrape of metal against old worn-out carpet can be felt going threw my shoes and up my legs, making me shiver from the feeling. The dry sunlight rains in threw the high windows above the pictures and posters, illuminating the dust flying around the room. The clock seems to have sped up as I spent my time looking at the matured, grit covered type writer . I was knocked back into the real word when the bell rang. 3:15... time to go home.
Published 10/3/2017(NZ) (3/10/2017(US))
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Describing the Scenes
De TodoHello humanoids who are bothering to read this. I just got a sudden urge, while eating cookies and doing home work, that I wanted to make a Wattpad story with different descriptions of different settings. I don't know why do don't judge me. I don't...
