The Writer’s Christmas Pt1

Jenny ploughed through the snow, clutching her latest manuscript – a six page romance short story about a princess and a thief. In her other hand, she carried a copy of the latest Top 100 Book Rankings, her novel He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not highlighted next to the number twenty six.

She continued through the snow, ignoring the colourful decorations displayed in shopfronts. She had long since given up admiring the Christmas decorations – almost every shop in New York seemed to stock tinsel, in a rainbow of colours, and mechanical toy Santas which sang Christmas Carrols in annoying tones.

Jenny glanced at her watch. It was 5:05PM. She was late. Every Monday, from 5:00 she would meet her close friends, Tim and Laura, at the New York State Library for a one hour critique session, where they would all give feedback to each others latest work.

Jenny was in such a hurry, she rushed past ABC Books, her local bookshop. Stopping, she rushed back, and hurried inside, shaking her curly brown hair free of snow.

Hello, may I help you? a middle aged man asked.

Jenny regarded the man. Wheres Geoff?

Geoff is sick. Im his new assistant, the man replied. Can I help you with anything?

No. Just looking. Jenny replied, moving towards a display of books, the title, Love at Last Sight, standing out in gold lettering. Her books. She stopped to admire them.

Theyre good books, eh? the assistant said, coming over to her. Jenny looked at his name tag, Josh.

They are, arent they, Josh? she asked.

Id ask if you wanted to buy one, but I see you already one, Josh said.

Yeah. Several. Id best be off. With that, Jenny hurried out of the store, and back into the snow-filled sidewalk.

She hurried down the road once more, crossing at a set of traffic lights. She rounded a corner, and quickly arrived at the New York public library, a large ancient looking building, which looked more suited to Ancient Greece.

Afternoon, Jenny, a librarian greeted, as Jenny entered the building. The others are already here, waiting at the table.

I know, I hope Im not too late.

The librarian, an elderly lady with white hair glanced at the clock. 5:10PM. Im sure the others wont mind.

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