She opened the door, almost stepped on it. A single carnation, red!
She picked it up and inhaled its fragrance, she has always loved carnations, their colours are so pretty, the fantastic fragrance is bonus!
She looked around, there was no one in sight, morning was slowly making its presence known. A milkman passed by ringing his bicycle bell at the morning air.
She went back inside, placed the flower in a vase and came back to start her morning walk before the town woke up fully and boisterously.
He looked at her she did not noticed him, why will she, to her that gesture was nothing, to him divine kindness, he still remembers that morning vividly, as if it was just yesterday.
He could not make it back to his village home the previous night, his body was burning with fever, he was lying on this very bench shivering when someone covered his body with a warm shawl. It was her, she simply resumed her walk after covering him.
The author blushingly says:
I stumbled upon this site, through a post of someone else, I have forgotten whose I am sorry! But I had some really cool critiques for my writing style there check them out:
THE OPINION OF “I WRITE LIKE” : STEPHEN KING!
You like it? Will you take a taste of my works in Patreon by becoming my patron and helping me into turning my passion into my livelihood (Not key to El Dorado yet)!
Here is the whole packet from I write like if you are curious:
http://iwl.me/s/b3a26720 4xstephen king 12, 10, 6, 1
http://iwl.me/b/698342ba 3xtolstoy 13, 3, 2
http://iwl.me/b/ce65a7ad 3xmargaret mitchell- 14, 11, 4
5 http://iwl.me/b/8724194c 1xoscar wilde
7 http://iwl.me/b/d760c1b4 1xjames joyce
8 http://iwl.me/b/df5a2d46 1xbram stoker
9 http://iwl.me/b/faf229ca 1xRay Bradbury
15 http://iwl.me/b/cfe99843 1xDan Brown
16 http://iwl.me/b/69fb153c 1xGeorge Orwell
17 http://iwl.me/b/9a04347d 1xmariopuzo