Another short snippet from my novel-in-progress, Glue.
The sky was dark as I arranged my things: glue to the left, scissors to the right, and paper in the middle. It was only a pencil outline, but I could already see the bird, wings outstretched above an endless ocean. This bird’s feathers would be cerulean, darker than the warm azure sky, but lighter than the cool indigo ocean. I was fourteen years old and obsessed with color.
What do you think?