“I’ve built us a story to live in,” he said.
“But I don’t like you much,” she replied.
The little man looked smug as If expecting this. “No matter – you will in the story.”
“In any case,” she said, “it’s impossible – I promised Albert to be in his play.”
“Pah! Bert! The boy’s plots are sound, but the characterisation is weak. You’ll end up thin and wasted.”
Arms folded, she glared, foot beating out a rhythm of unease.
“There’s a beach,” he wheedled, certain of wearing her down. “I’ve hired the summer. And you’ll never grow old.”
Fancy sharpening your skill with writing exercises? The Scrivener’s Forge offers a new exercise every month to hone one aspect of your craft. Take a look at this month’s exercise here