Danny King's exercise - part one

Okay, I started before 3 O'Clock but that's a good thing because I wanted to start writing something. I was annoyed at some local building work going on so that inspired the start and also allowed me to comment on the amount of housing development happening in the town. It will probably go through a fair amount of tweaking - but all that will come once the story is completed. For now, it's just getting words down.

The first 250 words are;

The sounds of workers working is what caused Don Findy to stop working. He placed a collection of photographs onto the table, picked up his glass of whisky, and moved over to the window. A group of men were scattered around the development site, all wearing the same; a white shirt and blue jeans. How could they tell who was who? A decent little pub that used to be. It was now set for transformation into ‘luxury’ apartments with a river view. Whether getting the chance to look at crisp packets swimming or sunken shopping trolleys was a positive selling point was open to debate.

The noise that had been piercing his thoughts had stopped and Findy struggled to see where it may have come from; there was no mechanical saw or drill or anything of the kind. He moved away from the window and back into his chair. He started thinking about the photographs in front of him when the noise from outside started up again. He grabbed the photographs and slouched downstairs.

Not having the energy to go upstairs again, to get the whisky he had left on the table, he opened a bottle from the side cabinet before sinking into his dilapidated chair. Findy deliberately had uncomfortable chairs so that he wouldn’t fall asleep or relax too much when trying to work at home. It didn’t always work, which partly explains the various lumps and impressed contours of his back. He took a sip from the glass.