A Teacup Full of Stories

Hi there! This is a little something I wrote this afternoon. I’m also really happy at the moment, because one of my best friends bought me a typewriter as an early birthday present today, and I can’t wait to write on it! Anyway, I hope you this little extract 🙂

It was a grey day. Rain pattered incessantly on the window panes, accompanied by the occasional bass rumble of thunder. The candles flickered in the draught from the cracked glass, and the edges of the scattered parchment lifted in the breeze. A chill wind whistled through the doorway and along the corridor, up the stairs and in and out of rooms, making doors creak on their hinges. Wooden floors groaned as they settled.

In the downstairs room, huddled in a blanket that trailed on the floor, she sat, hand sweeping across pages in a spidery scrawl, quill dipping in and out of inkpot with such ferocity that ink was blotched over the table all around it. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows over the stack of yellowing papers.

With a flourish, she came to an end, a last full stop dotted at the end of the page. With a  satisfied smile, she took up the pages and started to read from the beginning. The smile started to fade.

Goddammit, she thought, this is dreadful.