A
Abby S
Guest
this the first page so tell me what you think and if you dont like it then i'll make ajustments. my book is called the barbers blade and its about sweeney todd. well the first page is about the girl(im still trying to come up with a name) going to deliver some goods to her fathers fruit shop and read about it and see if you like it! comment on it!!!!!Chapter 1.
The constant sound of my shoes softly clicking on the stone street rang in my ears. The basket in my hands felt like a feather even though it was filled with fruits. It swayed from side to side as I ran past gentlemen in black coats with pocket watches. My eyes were focused straight ahead on the small shop on the corner of the narrow street. I didn’t dare stop and look at my surroundings for I was in a race against time. Father will be pleased! I thought to myself as I approached the shop that had a sign written in red letters that read “Darnell’s fruit shop”. The shop was small and was very cramped once you stepped inside. The door was a dark red almost burgundy that hung on rusty hinges. it had a wreath covered in berries hanging on a nail that looked as it was slammed in the door roughly and with out care. The sign with red letters was chipping and was now coating anyone that walked in with chips of wood. The windows took up most of the front of the store but with good reason. In the display in the windows showed plenty of fruit pastries and deserts and anything edible having to do with fruit. I climbed up one step and opened the door, which groaned in protest as I pushed it open. The shop was just as small as it had looked on the outside. It had a counter that was crammed in the center on the shop. The floor was dirty and covered with anything that might have blown inside. I looked away from the floor trying not to cringe in disgust and my eyes fell on the man behind the counter. He looked at me too. His face broke into a huge grin that spread across his face. He had bright blue eyes almost similar to a small child. He was quite plump by the looks of him. His cheeks were shiny and red. He was bald and he had gray hair that looked like a ferret wrapped around his head. He folded his hands on his middle and he spoke in a crackly rough voice but was strangely welcoming.
The constant sound of my shoes softly clicking on the stone street rang in my ears. The basket in my hands felt like a feather even though it was filled with fruits. It swayed from side to side as I ran past gentlemen in black coats with pocket watches. My eyes were focused straight ahead on the small shop on the corner of the narrow street. I didn’t dare stop and look at my surroundings for I was in a race against time. Father will be pleased! I thought to myself as I approached the shop that had a sign written in red letters that read “Darnell’s fruit shop”. The shop was small and was very cramped once you stepped inside. The door was a dark red almost burgundy that hung on rusty hinges. it had a wreath covered in berries hanging on a nail that looked as it was slammed in the door roughly and with out care. The sign with red letters was chipping and was now coating anyone that walked in with chips of wood. The windows took up most of the front of the store but with good reason. In the display in the windows showed plenty of fruit pastries and deserts and anything edible having to do with fruit. I climbed up one step and opened the door, which groaned in protest as I pushed it open. The shop was just as small as it had looked on the outside. It had a counter that was crammed in the center on the shop. The floor was dirty and covered with anything that might have blown inside. I looked away from the floor trying not to cringe in disgust and my eyes fell on the man behind the counter. He looked at me too. His face broke into a huge grin that spread across his face. He had bright blue eyes almost similar to a small child. He was quite plump by the looks of him. His cheeks were shiny and red. He was bald and he had gray hair that looked like a ferret wrapped around his head. He folded his hands on his middle and he spoke in a crackly rough voice but was strangely welcoming.