I have wanted to write short stories for a long time, and have a dream of my own that I have decided to put into a story. Here is the first paragraph. I will put up small portions at a time, and hopefully soon, have a full story.
Thunder clapped suddenly, and the dark, ominous clouds that had been threatening for most of the afternoon opened up in a summer deluge, sending nearly everyone indoors. One golfer remained out on the municipal course, pulling his cap out of his bag, adjusting it to try and keep the water out of his eyes. Large drops of water began to quickly collect on the brim, and drip onto the already soaked green. He squatted down, eying his intended line of stroke. Though this was just a practice round, he felt his nerves grip him, and in turn, he gripped his putter more tightly. I have to make this putt, he told himself. He pulled back for the stroke, seeing the ball travel toward the cup in his mind, heard the dull ping as his white-faced putter struck the ball, and closed his eyes, listening for the sweet sound of the ball coming to rest at the bottom of the cup, but all he heard was the incessant falling of raindrops.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment