Susan waved her polite goodbyes to her colleagues as she quietly stepped outside after a day at work. Having arrived early at the library that morning, she had made sure that she had time to catalogue the new book arrivals for the day and tidy the shelves. Everyone who worked with Susan would describe her as shy; she was polite and hardworking, never raising her voice or daring to take an extra few minutes on her lunch break. Her hair was styled into a tight bun on top of her head, her skirt was knee-length and was smart brown wool-blend and paired with a beige blouse, nothing about her appearance demanded attention.
She walked around the corner, out of sight from her workplace. Then she pulled her skirt up until it was thigh-length at most, displaying a tattooed garter around her leg, she pulled a packet of cigarettes from her bra, lit one and inhaled deeply before heading down the dimly-lit alleyway behind a backstreet boozer. In a few hours she would be swinging herself around a pole in front of dozens of drooling men. She would need a few shots of tequila first. She unpinned her brown hair and it spilled down her back, exposing the flashes of bright red of the dyed tips.
It certainly makes for an unusual character! A great way to start building all-rounded characters.
When I look back at that moment now, I can see that I had panicked. As I bobbed up and down with the rhythm of the water, clinging uneasily to the life belt that had been tossed overboard to me, I cursed at my sheer stupidity. I suppose that one day this would be and event to laugh about but as I kicked my legs, thrashing about like a child in a bubble bath, just trying to stay afloat in the tepid, salty water of the Mediterranean, I can assure you that I was not in jovial spirits.
Until this unlikely turn of events, I had been having a splendid holiday. A week in the sun with my eldest brother was just the ticket I needed after an unforgiving summer of exams and relentless assignments. Ironically, it had been my suggestion to spend the day at sea; there was a flyer in the lobby of our hotel advertising glass-bottom boats departing throughout the morning from the golden coastline. Once aboard, with the ocean spray hitting our burnt, freckled faces I had forgotten about the workload of home and felt alive. It was during the lunchtime barbecue on the vessel that the day had taken a turn for the worst; we were sitting, burger in hand, staring through the glass floor at the peculiar fish when I heard a familiar voice.
The voice was shrill and it pierced the air like a scalpel in an operating theatre, the hairs in my arms stood to attention as the drunken lady headed closer. It was my chemistry teacher. I could barely comprehend my misfortune; Mrs sharp, drunk. Me, petrified.
I cannot describe precisely what happened next, but I know that I freaked out. I leapt to the deck, stripped to my underpants and belly-flopped into the water. In hindsight, this was a move that I deeply regretted.
Although this is not my current novel that I am eking on, these exercises are great at improving my writing and I am hoping that with a few tweaks my writing will be on the right path to publication!