Untitled Short Story by Jeff John

In the Professional Writer's Group today, Jeff John shared some of his new writing. So far, Jeff has been focusing on developing his poetry and lyrics but today he decided to write something a bit different and tried a short story. It is a challenge to try a new form of creative work and Jeff's writing today pushed his creativity a bit further. Here is what he wrote,

In the burning faces laid into the stone faced rocks, a man sits settled into the dusted dawns, swigging from a flask whilst swiping settling dust off his charcoaled face. Croaking in the freshened light of dawn, his iron ridged mouth creaks with the yawning movements. The creeping willows of the house in the wooden stains where he perched on a brick wall as the breeze rustled his hair. Staring bleary-eyed at the passers-by who yell out various abuses. "You young hounds", he growled. "You old crone", they sneer. "You ain't worth your salts." His bitter face was scared through the rough histories of his many years.

In his past pretences, he was the popular guy, set around the flash wooded town where he had set his stone and mortar. His popularity had spread through the constant flashing of his face in print, with people screaming for all the poses. His flash persona was in ruins for he had lived a life of too much toughness. He was drawn to tatters by those of his attractions, he was always easily persuaded by a nice smile and a gentle touch and subtle tones in people's voices.

Where as now he was barely a shadow of his past. Living in the rough ended shelters in amongst sharded roofs of a fallen building site, where rusting irons curled for roofing. Hitting the all-time low after rough rides. With others he had his heart torn.