Story Time!

Hello!

I thought I'd be brave today (just like yesterday's post, HERE, said I should be) and share a story with you that I wrote a little while ago in a creative writing workshop. It's only a very short one and we had to write it in both first and third person, so here is the third person version but I can always post the first person one later to give you a bit more insight, if you want! I have also expanded on the story since then, so there is a bit more to it now but this is the original, short version. Let me know what you think, I'm open to criticism too, just make it constructive, pretty please!

Bang, Bang.

The noise echoed through the tiny, corner shop, making it all the way to the small staff room at the back where Rose sat, staring into her steaming cup of coffee, her hands wrapped around it to absorb the heat. Her head slowly lifted up a minute after the loud bang, a frown spreading across her pale face. She sat for thirty or so seconds longer, staring at the door expectantly, but nothing happened. Resigned, she stood up and, slowly, headed for the door, the plimsolls on her feet dragging across the old, carpeted floor. She pulled the heavy fire door, the strain showing on her face from the weight of it, heaving out a big sigh as she let it swing shut, her cup of coffee still sitting half empty on the edge of the table where it was left.

She walked through the short hallway to the shop floor and stopped. She stood in the middle of the aisle staring at the visibly open cash desk. You could see the slight tremble in her hands as they hung, limply by her sides and the hairs at the nape of her neck were all stood up on edge, alert.

There was another resounding thud that resonated through the small shop, coming from behind where Rose was stood. Her eyes closed momentarily and her previously heavy breathes came to a halt. It was several minutes before she reopened her eyes again and gained her composure. Slowly, her body started to turn, her clumsy feet turning a second later. The movement stirred the resting dust bunnies, letting them mix and swirl in the air before finding somewhere new to hide; somewhere safer. As she stood staring at what had been behind her only a minute ago her breath got lost in her throat, caught on her terror. Less than a couple of centimetres away from her face was a gun, a calloused finger resting on the trigger.