Writing Fiction 3

The heavy black and blue winter sky groaned awfully with rain clouds that at any moment were really about to fall crashing heavily down upon the street where, because it was rush hour, so many people, wearing all manner of different clothes, hats, shoes, boots, some of them carrying bags, suitcases, briefcases, scampered and strolled about the place as though oblivious to what was just about to happen over their very heads. One of these people was called Hilary and concealed inside her voluminous coat she carried the loaded, snub-nosed gun, and she also seemed to be the only one looking upwards into the tempestuous thundery heavens.


Edited version:

The black sky groaned with rain clouds that at any moment were about to fall, because it was rush hour, many people strolled about the place completely oblivious as to what was about to happen.

One of these people was Hilary and concealed inside her voluminous coat was a loaded gun, and she seemed to be the only one looking up into the thundery heavens.

A tumbler of Sorrow

She drank
The whisky
In one gulp
A tumbler
Full of sorrow
At her husband's
Wake
Her right hand
Usually
Clasped
In his
Bereft.

Wings

I would love
To have wings
To soar
Through
Wispy clouds
Dive into
Cool waters
Be free.

Her stormy Emotions

Her stormy
Emotions
Violent
And sudden
Her eyes
Truly were
A window
Into her soul
One moment
Black
Before clearing
Into sky blue

His Dashing Smile

I was charmed
Instantly
By his dashing smile
The sparkle
In his grey eyes
So full of life
And laughter
He was my love
My only love.

Lock and Key

My Heart
Kept
Under
Lock and key
Only those
Who truly
Love me
Are
Entrusted
With
A key.

Update

Finally I am writing fiction again. I've really missed it and I came up with a great idea today which maybe I should develop further rather than turning it into a short story. It's very exciting.