The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had left the Six-Sentence-Café-&-Bistro, as she walked through the slush and wintery rain; she had another rented place now, she had got a bargain and it’s right on the top floor, not far from here, and also not far from the Bartender’s pad.
The wind was picking up now; she began to hurry, while tightening her overcoat, and keeping her big bag close; she could hear a couple of yobs yelling, they were getting nearer, but she was here now, swiftly opening and closing her door.
She hurried up all six floors, it was certainly making her fitter; she unlocked her door, taking off her big bag, removing her coat, and kicking her shoes off, as she padded over to her very messy table; she looked out at the nearest window, while the night sky groaned and moaned.
She pulled out her smartphone, it had a new ring, not sure how it happened though; she’d heard two pings just now: one was from the Bartender explaining about something the tall, thin man had said, and the other was about another great friend, who knows all things about weather.
She returned to the table, looking around to find her many notes about weather, and she also needed her notes about the skies, the clouds and the rainbows, this can be awesome; she opened her laptop, waking it up, now she dived down to continue to write.
And yes, she talks to herself… but who doesn’t?
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Di of Pensitivity 101 – Thursday’s Three Things Challenge: WRING, YES, YOB

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: WIND
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