Writing Exercise

South of North Border

The flood waters receded, and the villagers returned to what remained of their homes. Debris littered the once pristine lanes winding through the cluster of small cottages. Some of the structures had their doors ripped off and others had their roofs caved in. What the water and wind didn’t drag away, it dropped in piles, making walking and looking for the dead tedious work.

Colin surveyed the damage from atop one of the only surviving horses owned by the village. Although only a boy, he understood what the devastation meant: he and his family would leave Soughwen.

“It is worse than I imagined,” said Faye. She bowed her head and silently wept.

Wil placed a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine. The worst is over.”

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Writing Exercise

A recent writing exercise by Diane Lynn McGyver.

Franklin snatched the leather pouch from the table and slipped it behind his back. He checked to see if his wife noticed; she didn’t. Once outside the house, he looked up and down the street for anyone lurking about but didn’t see anyone in the glow of the streetlights. As he started down the sidewalk in the direction of town, he continued to search the area for anyone suspicious. The mysterious phone call earlier in the day had his nerves on high alert. If he didn’t get those papers to his contact, he wouldn’t be the only one in danger. He fingered the pouch in his pocket. There was enough money in it to get him out of the country if necessary.

A figure came out of the shadows between two buildings, making Franklin jump. To his relief, it was Carl. The young man walked to the nearby vehicle.

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