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Writing Exercise 2

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Against the odds, Jasmine stalked forwards.  Beneath the shadows of night, her dappled coat gave her an advantage other cats might not posses.  Camouflaged by her coat, she cautiously strode forward.  Despite the slight fog, or perhaps because of it, she took on the challenge before her.  Eager for success, she carefully prodded forward across the patio paving stones.


Fog was only one of her worries, however.  Getting above the fog helped enormously.  However, the planter box on the edge of the garden wall rustled too much for her to trust.  It wasn't the best of places to launch a surprise attack, either.  Jumping from the box might upset it, costing Jasmine both distance and the advantage of a silent approach.  Keeping that advantage was key.


Leaning around the garden wall, Jasmine took a long, focused look at her target.  Much of her strategy depended on proper positioning before the surge.  Night birds overhead became silent, noticing the cat's body language changing, as Jasmine made herself as close to the ground as possible.  One single squirrel stood on the lawn, his tail up as he munched on an acorn.  Perhaps the rodent didn't know that the gathering shadows weren't his best time to seek food.  Quelling an urge to strike early, Jasmine settled in, watching, waiting.  Rushing forward at the wrong time would give the squirrel a chance to escape: not in Jasmine's plan.


Suddenly, the squirrel looked up.  Tail twitching in the gentle evening breeze, he looked around.  Undoubtedly, the lack of bird song and the stirring of errant breezes brought some warning to the rodent, and his body shifted.

Viewing the change in the squirrel, Jasmine paused.  Without the edge of surprise, the squirrel would get away.  Xyloid branches from the vernal undergrowth screened the cat from her target, but the wily rodent was alerted.  Yearning to complete the hunt, Jasmine took a chance and bolted from cover, bounding towards her goal.



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Damn, that took a while, hehe.


Alcohol was flowing like rivers. Buckets of the stuff went over counters, through mouths and into the bodies of intoxicated patrons. Clubbing was not usually the scene of 21-year-old Sebastian, but his friends had managed to convince him to come along, just this once, as they put it. Despite his inhibitions, Seb, as he was usually called, was actually enjoying his stay, drinking in the atmosphere and enjoying the almost-but-not-quite too loud music, his head swaying lightly to its rhythm. Electric currents seemed to shoot through him as he caught the intense gaze of another guest, beckoning him silently. Following the pull, Seb stood from his stool at the bar and slowly, cautiously, made his way through the to and fro of people on the dance-floor. Grinding bodies clashed against one another and Seb, delaying his progress across the room.

He was pushed from behind by a careless dancer and barely caught himself before falling, but lost sight of the mysterious man across the room. Intent on finding him, Seb scanned the crowd anxiously, but his efforts were fruitless, as he could not make him out in the dark, no matter how hard he looked. Jerking his eyes away from the middle of the room he turned and sighed in disappointment. Killed, the short daydream taking place in the middle of the night ended. Longing eyes swept the edge of the room once more in a hopeless attempt to find the intriguing stranger, finding nothing of interest. Many stories spoke of this scenario, eyes meeting across the room and a stranger becomes a character in someone else's story.

Not this time, though.

Only a minute was what it took to take the wind out of Seb's sails, leaving him to wonder what he was doing here in the first place. Pushing the nagging thoughts out of his mind, Seb was now pursuing a different goal, namely that of forgetting his loneliness for another night. Quietly, he turned back and made his way toward the bar, where he hoped to find the panacea to his malady. Raised hands indicated the position of his friends, waving him back to their places at the bar. Seats were hard to get by at the full club, but apparently his friends had managed to defend his from being occupied for the short while he had been gone. Tongues wagged, but Seb waved the questions away and told them he thought he had seen someone he knew. Unanimously, they decided not to push him on the issue, since they knew their friend and how close-mouthed he could be when he wanted to. Vodka was mixed with coffee liqueur and cream to create a White Russian and soon Seb was finishing his drink, wasting no time in his quest toward the bottom of the glass.

When another drink, one he hadn't ordered, was placed before him, Seb threw the bartender a questioning glance. X-rated pictures flashed through his mind when his eyes found what, or rather who, the bartender was pointing at. Young and tall, the stranger from earlier in the evening was standing nearby, smiling widely, his own drink raised in greeting. Zeroing in on the handsome man, Seb left his friends behind once again and this time no drunk without control over their limbs would stop him.

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Very good, Chris!  I really like the word choices and the use of internal meter and rhyme within the sentences.  Great use of the setting and descriptions to give action to the character's confusion.  It is a moment we can all identify with, that sense of reaching for something, losing sight of it, only to have it find us again.  Great scenario.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Okay, it took me long enough... but I finally finished this.


As the sun came up over the bay, the orangey yellow glow illuminated my living room. Beautiful though it was, I had work to do and couldn’t sit looking out the balcony window all day. Callous though the world is, it’s realities often strike when least expected. Desperately clinging to the last shred of hope I had, I turned from the window and went into my bedroom. Earlier that night, whe had layed together it had been but a chance meeting and, I thought, a chance at happiness.


 Frankly, I had been delusional. Guess I had it coming, though, I had been cocky. He had been playing the long odds, working the scam to get in. I had fallen for it and fallen for him, stupidly. Joey, if that HAD been his name, was incredibly cute and very enthusiastic; just the sort of guy I go for normally. Kinda makes me wonder, but I should have expected it. Life being what it is, how could I not have expected it especially in this line of work?


My confidence had taken a hit, but thankfully I had my life. Now, though, it was over and I had a dead body hanging from the closet to dispose of. Of course, I could call the police and end this all right now. Part of me thought about it seriously, but that was not to be for I had other respobsibilities that I had to see to. Quivering, I picked up the phone and dialed. Roughly four rings went by before someone answered and I explained the situaution. Secret agent work had never been easy. Thankfully, though, the organization had ways of dealing with situations like this. Unerringly I followed the protocols that had been put in place as instructed.


Verry soon, I felt, I would be face to face with the man I had been sent to kill. Would I have the guts to do it of that I wasn’t certain, everything until now had just been espionage and information gathering. Xenophobia had long been a problem in my country and this was no exception although the very real possibility of what would happen if this guy bought the item was a great risk so I was to assassinate and replace him. Yet although part of me still felt it was wrong I couldn’t let those kinds of thoughts cloud my resolve at this point because I had a mission to carry out. Zero hour, I finished dressing and cleared my mind of all thought save what I had to do for king and country then stepped into the hall.

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