Thursday, 3 February 2011

It was another late night in October, the dried up leaves were rustling through the dark alleyways, brushing past homeless bodies curled up in blankets as the summer was ending and the chill of winter was creeping upon them unawares. To all the millions of New York City dwellers it was just another blustery evening but for the four in the Phillies Diner, it was not. The diner, once a popular diner in an affluent part of the city, now stood alone with the dust on the plastic tabletops reflecting the bright glaring lights into the gloom of the city. Tonight, the diner was almost empty. Little did the lonely man sitting in the shadowy corner know what the well dressed couple at the bar had done earlier that evening. He wasn’t paying attention. He had had a tough day at work. He had almost been fired, and his recent divorce from his wife still rankled. He ordered a Jack Daniels from the balding barman and looked at his old, battered watch. It was almost midnight but he, Erik Bridge had nowhere else to go.
Looking over to the bar, he noticed the well dressed couple. The young man had his grey hat rather far down his forehead, covering his eyes. His jaw was set in a straight line. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that looked freshly ironed, and an expensive looking gold watch. On closer inspection however, he had a single bead of sweat trickling down his long hooked nose. He looked serious, as though he was carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders. The woman who he supposed was his girlfriend was elegantly dressed in a ruby red silk dress with a row of shimmering pearls perched delicately around her neck. She had fiery red hair with a heavily made up face but her full red lips were set into an unhappy pout.

These are the first two paragraphs of my ORIGINAL WRITING for English, my teacher hated it. I got my inspiration from a painting by Edward Hopper called 'Nighthawks', which is above

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