23I've strated editting
Author's note: Well, this is a test kind of thing, see if you like it. please read and review if you want me to continue. It is a bit descriptive at the moment for the reason that it is sort of an introduction... okay i'm going to stop my blabing now... please read and review again... the more you review the harder i work... :D
Chapter 1
I loved everything about this city. The cobblestone streets, the distant clanking of horse hoofs as they ferry tourists around the city. I smiled as another one of my breaths turned into mist. This place is far different from the late oriental autumns I had known.
I stopped and rubbed my hands together before pushing open a door into a small café. I anticipated the sound of the little golden bell announcing my arrival. The sweet aroma of coffee and the warm cozy atmosphere engulfed my senses. I took off my gloves and bonnet as I approached the smiling face behind the counter.
"And how are you today, dear?" asked Mrs. Whitting.
"Quite cold at the moment, Ma'am," I replied as I rubbed my hands together.
"Then we must get you warmed up, child. I assume it would be the usual?" I nodded my reply as she smiled and began to brew the little brown beans.
I stood up and made my way to my favorite table by the large glass window overlooking the city street. There were not many costumers this late afternoon. Many tables lay vacant, except for the booth at the back corner, where a couple sat whispering to one another and at another table sat a business man flipping through today's paper as his sipped his steaming cup. I gazed out towards the people speeding about outside the window, wondering at where they were all off to.
"Your coffee, Miss," Margaret intoned as she lay my cup before me, breaking through my thoughts.
"Thank you, Margaret," I smiled at the young auburn haired girl, one of the two daughters of Mrs. Whitting.
I reached for the little bag I brought along with me containing one of my most prized possessions, my favorite novel. I began to flip through the familiar pages, turning to where I had left off the past day. I took a whiff of my cinnamon flavored coffee and took a sip relishing the warmth it brought my body. I began to read and for a moment oblivious to the world about me.
After quite sometime as I was still lost in the story I read, a man sat in front of me and shortly after his cup was delivered to him. It was after all a table for two, so I didn't mind all that much and continued with my reading. I had only been living in London for a year, I dismissed his 'rudeness' as perhaps one of those instances found common but not to one such as I who is new to this place. But there are still so many vacant tables, my mind reasoned out, I left this frame of mind and continued to focus on my book not once glancing at the stranger before me.
"That is quite an interesting read for a lady," he commented.
I blushed as I searched to find a polite reply. It was not that I was ashamed of what I was reading, it was just that not too many my age might have shared my fascination with the theme the story revolved in. "Well, yes, it is quite interesting," I answered lamely for the lack of a wittier comment. I didn't even look up but a split second later worried if I had insulted him by not doing so.
"Very few still read such stories at your age," he said nonchalantly. That comment removed my earlier guilt of possibly insulting him.
I looked up to tell him to mind his own business as politely as I could have mustered but not one word escaped my mouth for I was met with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. And for a moment I gazed mesmerized.