Writing Exercise

The street scene outside of the shop window was percolated by droplets of side-swiping rain.  It was a bitchy sort of rain, she thought.  The kind that caused people to pop into the shop just to get out from the weather's assault.


And so it did. He came in, eyes and cheeks bulging.  He hacked once, then twice, into his closed fist.  Wheezing, he beelined for the bric-a-brac, stuffing gloves in his pocket. The hat was left on. She was glad he came in. She had started worrying if he would come in today. As she helped others at the till, she surreptitiously watched him as he browsed. Sometimes he would buy a trinket from the shelves. Most times, not. She scanned his coat-covered tummy for a glimpse of  a new brooch or pin, counting as she did. Fourteen. Not as many as last time, she mused. 


The shelves held the man in their particular sway, a siren song for the hole he was trying to fill. His hand reached out, hovered, and settled on a pint glass. He brought it to the counter, eyes never wavering from the prize. 


Why did he pick that particular pint glass, she wondered, as she turned it over looking for the price tag. Homer Simpson stared glassily up at her. "Ninety-nine pence, please.", she said.  A pound was handed over, a pence was placed back in his hand.  Into the pocket it went, with the gloves. The hat, having never been taken off, was Russian. 




The writing exercise was to write a short vignette (short, impressionistic scenes that focus on one moment or give a particular insight into a character, idea, or setting).
Check out Erin's and Aimee's.