A Writing Exercise

I need to write something, but I have no idea what to write about. So, let’s see how this plays out. I’m going to try writing the introduction to a story that I create right now off the top of my head with no editing.  Here we go:

It was raining. It was a nice heavy soaking rain that dampened the soil and Sophie could almost hear the plants drinking. She stood on the front porch of her modest home watching the rain fall in straight wet curtains, the leaves bounce as the drops struck them, the puddles forming in the middle of her yard. She had always loved the rain, the sound of it, the feel of it. It was as if the world were washed clean and everything began anew again when it rained.

A rumble of thunder pulled her out of her thoughts and she turned to her washing hanging on the line. So much for that being dry this afternoon, she thought with a grimace, but shrugged it off. Not much to do about that. As she stared at the gently swaying laundry, she glimpsed movement at the edge of the clearing marking the end of her property. Her eyes narrowed and she zeroed in on the spot, trying to determine who or what it was. Everything was moving, what with the rain, but there was something there. She reached inside her door and pulled out her rifle. Visitors announced themselves, they didn’t hide in the foliage, and bears and lions were not unknown to roam close to a home in search of food. Best be prepared.

She heard a groan from inside and was reminded that she had a patient to protect as well. She raised the rifle to her shoulder, set the hock, and called out, “Who’s there?”

Nothing but the falling rain answered her. She didn’t move. “Come out! I know you’re there!” For a long moment, nothing happened. The rain fell, the leaves rustled, water dripped, and her heart pounded. Finally, a figure stepped out of the brush. He was tall and armored. She tightened her grip on the gun, although her arm was starting to tire under it’s weight. “Hold! Who are you? Step any closer and that armor won’t protect you.”

He raised his arms. “Mistress, please, I am unarmed. Can I trouble you for food?”

“Identify yourself!” she repeated, not to be distracted and certainly not believing he was unarmed.

“Just a little food, please. Bread or an apple. I’ve been traveling hard for days.”

Her suspicions increased. Who the devil was this man? Why wasn’t he telling her who he was? From here she could see he was relatively clean. He had not been walking. Where was his animal? He had a horse somewhere with supplies, she’d bet her farm. Her heart rate increased. Damnit, this was not a good situation. Something bad was about to happen.

He took a step forward. “Freeze!” she cried. “Not one more damn step until you tell me who you are and what you really want! There’s nothing here of worth, so if it’s robbery you’re thinking of, your time is wasted.” She really didn’t want him to test her on this; the gun only had one shot and if she missed….

He froze but didn’t seem alarmed or cowed. She tried to look around but was reluctant to take her eyes off of him for more than a second.  He kept his hands up. And took another step forward.

Ok, there it shall end for now. I wonder what happens next.

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