Zara took a deep breath before she pushed the door open. The sunlight streamed through the door into the dimly lit room decorated with countless posters displaying various designs. A girl with long, matted hair and countless piercings was leaning back in her chair, her boot shod feet resting carelessly on the desk. Her eyes ran up and down Zara’s body, summarily assessing and dismissing her as she noted her details in the appointment book before jerking her head towards another door. Tentatively, Zara made her way through the second door, blinking in the sudden brightness after the dimness of the waiting room. She was shown to a chair, and positioned as comfortably as possible. A rough but kind looking man appeared, and checked that all the information she had given was correct. He peered into her face, as though he was trying to judge her sanity. She glared back boldly, trying to use arrogance as a weapon against her fear. He nodded grimly, satisfied, and began his work. Both of them sweated and clenched their teeth as the minutes wore on, clicking over into hours. Zara counted each second that ticked around the clock, from one to sixty, one to sixty, and one to sixty again, trying to distract herself from the pain in her soul as much as the fire on her skin. The rough man bent over her wrist, delicate and precise in his work, so engrossed that he seemed to be the only person in the room. At length the work was done. Zara stepped back through the doors, and out to the street, where the bright sunlight had turned to dusk. She glanced down at her wrist. Alyna, the engraving spelt out in fine script. Now her memory would always be a part of her.
Kimby's first try
Word count: 300
Zara took a deep breath before she pushed the door open. The sunlight streamed through the door into the dimly lit room decorated with countless posters displaying various designs. A girl with long, matted hair and countless piercings was leaning back in her chair, her boot shod feet resting carelessly on the desk. Her eyes ran up and down Zara’s body, summarily assessing and dismissing her as she noted her details in the appointment book before jerking her head towards another door.
Tentatively, Zara made her way through the second door, blinking in the sudden brightness after the dimness of the waiting room. She was shown to a chair, and positioned as comfortably as possible. A rough but kind looking man appeared, and checked that all the information she had given was correct. He peered into her face, as though he was trying to judge her sanity. She glared back boldly, trying to use arrogance as a weapon against her fear. He nodded grimly, satisfied, and began his work.
Both of them sweated and clenched their teeth as the minutes wore on, clicking over into hours. Zara counted each second that ticked around the clock, from one to sixty, one to sixty, and one to sixty again, trying to distract herself from the pain in her soul as much as the fire on her skin. The rough man bent over her wrist, delicate and precise in his work, so engrossed that he seemed to be the only person in the room.
At length the work was done. Zara stepped back through the doors, and out to the street, where the bright sunlight had turned to dusk. She glanced down at her wrist. Alyna, the engraving spelt out in fine script. Now her memory would always be a part of her.