Shorts and Such

These Glasses

*I'm honestly just writing this to warm up, and I'm wearing my glasses so you know it's serious writing time. Enjoy, if you dare*

Everything seems to be more defined, more real.

The gray sun barely lights the room, the cool wind makes the white linen curtain billow like the capes of twin superheroes. The curious girl steals a glance out the open windows, and the green hedge needs a trim. Desperately. But it's too green. Every now and then she catches a glimpse of the brown tree. After ten years, she has yet to discover what grows on those weak branches.

A Maltese poodle trots in the room and jumps to make claim on the plush brown chair, a twin to the one where an author writes this update. The dog's brother rests on one of the decorative pillows, studying the struggling author when he can. The linen blows and bends where the southern wind wills it, and the curtain veils the pup. He dejectedly places his chin on the arm of his chair, relishing the cool day.

The author breathes in the mix of lost salt, promises of a storm brewing in her world. Her brother was always better with the ways of Mother Nature, but he has trained her enough to know when rain looms on the horizon. It was always her favorite.

Ed Sheeran serenades her ears with his melodic voice, a song that makes her want to dance along. But there are more important matters to pursue than her horribly out of style, out of practice, dancing.

The stubborn mutts verbally assault each passing citizen, well meaning or no.

These glasses have smudges she's never bothered to spray down, for a simple wipe on her borrowed shirt provides enough for her to see the world in a higher definition, and the world, for a moment, seems more real.

How will dinner end for Sima?

What does Katryna think of Ace?

Will Cerin protect  Sylindra from a new threat that has been awakened?

Will Marigold claim her place in her kingdom?

Why has Shila been given a ring of Kings?

What does Doctor Jamar Tran know of Allidina, and Calvin Wonder for that matter?

The author smiles micheviously.

She has no fucking clue.

Welcome to the wonderful world of Writer's Block, KATRYNA16

Shit