I’m not going to be writing a lot today.
That was going to be my entire post, and a reasonably good jape it would be as well but I thought it to be a little lacking.
Instead I’ll post an out-of-context paragraph from my current project, enjoy your lack of pretext!
As the golden sun began to fall under the wintry horizon, creating a spectacular display of oranges, reds and yellows over the ice and water that glittered over the frost falls, what had appeared to be transparent balls began to light up with the same yellow that glared into Evan’s eyes. These spheres seemed to be hanging on strings from the left and right sides of every building in West Fjord, and the two that hung outside the Ironwood Shields set the decking aglow from both ends, creating a brilliant display of colour against the metal tables that seemed to match perfectly with the melody created by Maxwell’s rapping fingers. The sun’s goodbye marked by the warm glow of the city itself, powered by the immense force of shivering waterfalls in the city’s forever-turning centre and calling forth the night. Fahra and the priest arrived in the night’s stead however, followed by the gatekeeper who had welcomed them into the city, a man they had been told was keeping secrets, although you wouldn’t know it from the friendly smile on his face, his joy at reuniting with an old friend. Surely he knew that he would be asked questions? It seemed perplexing that Ferin would be so relaxed; but there he was, disappearing into Ironwood Shields and emerging drink in hand; holding a much darker ale than the beverage Gene had chosen, one that threatened the throat with its very scent, one holding the same obsidian colour that the sky was turning.