Another Year 1 Creative Writing Work

I wish I had someone to put these instead of the main feed on here but I don’t want to make another page just for a few articles, and I couldn’t begin to even think of what I would call it aha.

So here you are, another piece of writing for you.

—–

A light brown, heavy wooden door. This is the first thing that greets you. Beyond this barrier is a den of privacy. The first thing that hits you when you enter is the smell of winter drafting in through the constantly open window, the breeze, flirting with the curtains. The air is fresh and crisp. You can smell the cold. To your immediate left is the bathroom. This is the place were all evidence of your sins can be cleansed. Washed. Flushed. Drained. The shelf above the sink contains a plethora of aftershaves. Fragrances to form a mask that only fits me. You can smell the moisture in the air. If you happen to look the shower you will see a bit of damp in between the titles at the bottom. Only the tiniest amount but still enough that you could class it as “dirty”. Leaving the bathroom you enter the room proper.

Upon entering the main part of the room you immediately can see it is much bigger than it appears. Now I am not talking about its physical dimensions but about the vast amount of things it contains and what each of these “things” represents. Hobbies. Interests. Books line the walls, each of these books a link to worlds that we can only fathom, each of them telling a vast story. A games console surrounded by video games sits in front of the extravagant television, each of these also a gateway to vast worlds. Upon the desk, the holding place for the contents of my pocket, a monitor sits connected to a computer which in turn is connected to the internet. It is an access point to a wealth of knowledge. Next to the computer is a sound system that can only be described as problematic. The sound that this produces is easily heard in the other rooms and caused one person to change flats. Opposite the desk is my bed.
The bed is quite modern but small, instead of a head board it contains shelves. These shelves contain the junk that I could never find an appropriate and logical place for. Bits and bobs that I probably do not need but can’t bring to throw away. The bed itself is nice and neatly made, ready to accept me into its warm embrace at the end of every day.

At the far end of the room is the window. The view from this window is breath taking, during the day you can lose yourself in the view of the river, beyond the university campus, winding its way to fall off the edge of the earth at the horizon. You can see the sunset from the window, the most beautiful thing you could ever see. A different mix of reds, oranges and pinks lighting up the sky. Night time out of the window is something completely different, to the left you can see the campus and the edges of the town, then to the right you can see the red neon cross that glows all through the night, a beacon to anyone, religious or not. If you are of religious persuasion this may give you hope but it does nothing to me. Beyond this cross are the lights of a thousand street lights pathways connecting each individual together. Giving access to friends, family and enemies alike.

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