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I wait by the doors as the train enters the great iron and glass vault of Brighton station. The doors clunk and sigh open; I step off and stride along the platform, where the turnstiles are open as if to welcome me.
Soon I'm on the road down to the sea.
The sky is darker now: a realm of mystery and promise above a sunset ocean of rippling burnished copper. The moon is off to the left as if awaiting her turn, and a few bolshy stars have turned up early. There's a cool wind off the ocean, and a warm one from the land.
A rock band starts up in a pub down the road and I head towards it.
The evening has started very well.
- COMMENTS
woodseavesabout 2 years agoSuperbly written, a simple scenario but the way you write makes it seem special. It felt as if I was reading about the real you :)
Girldick_Queenabout 3 years agoLoved this story! It's very hot, but also the writing is lovely. Lines like
"I imagine he is off to Brighton to crash a party he has not been invited to because it's being held by a bloke he does not like. The reasons for this dislike will not make sense to anyone, especially him."
and
"This is the thing about men. They have this reputation for being on a constant sexual Charge of the Light Brigade, but in fact are bloody hard work. Take this fellow. It could not be clearer that he wants me, and I could not be clearer that he can have me. He is not -- and I do not think this an unfair assumption -- what I would call a deep thinker. Why, then, does he not crack on?"
You have real talent with turning a phrase.
