The unique flavor dissolved into my tongue. The substance increased the temperature in my mouth as my backbone activated into a stretching position. Annoyingly, the solid chair was uncomfortable and insufferable. I sighed, and my finger pressed on the precise keyboard with scrambled, intricate letters. A blank page was displayed on my device in front of me. The coffee shop seemed to pause as I stared at the possibility of the beginning of a new story. A delicate storyline began to unfold in my unique brain. I started to type.
A small raindrop trickled down the window.
I was desperately hoping to portray the next sentence with exquisite vocabulary. Trying to make a beautiful impact on readers. I rested my eyes out the window, hoping for positive inspiration. My eyes focused on a small water drop trickling down the window. My lips twitched, and I smiled because of the coincidental situation. But not for long, because my hazel eyes were drawn back to the bleak digital pixels of my computer.
he trees swayed, obviously because of the sturdy impact of the dense wind.
I sighed, returning to reality. My pupils were urged to turn as a couple of nearby conifers began to swing as if they were constructed out of rubber material. My eyes squinted in fascination. Obviously exhilarated by that compelling action, I rolled up my sleeves and my feeble finger started pressing on the glossy keyboard, with a nimble pace.
Inside a mellow, secure coffee shop, a woman received a hundred dollars from a random
individual.
Excitement overwhelmed me as I patiently waited for the appearance of a stranger. There were so many possibilities that lingered in my thoughts. Across the welcoming building, I saw a plump woman applying bold, expressive makeup. A thin, feeble man advanced forward and handed her a thick pile of crisp cash. My thoughts crumbled, and I realized I had to be more specific about who the female was. I quickly wheezed down my hot beverage until the cup did not conceal any more liquid.
An employee walked at a slow pace toward a female author sitting at the far end of the wall. The employee produced a silky green matcha and told the woman there would be no additional costs for the cup of unique and striking flavor.
The taste of the last burst of flavor carefully swirled in my last liquid refreshment had evaporated from my tongue. My heart desired another sweltering beverage to assist me in focusing on the next comprehensive paragraph and so I would not affect the outline with quixotic movements. Silently interrupting my extensive thoughts, a young male appeared with a stubby, transparent cup. You could instantly recognize the dedication each employee placed in each order. The precise swirl of the whoop cream, or the textured matcha, is bursting with flavor. I thanked the man for the soothing edible item, and my back lay over the wobbly furniture. As the clumpy, textured clump of Matcha slowly dripped down my throat, a hypothesis appeared in my possibly unstable mind. I translated the idea into words.
The author realized what was happening.
The vocabulary I selected was not exquisite or detailed, but I intensely had a desire that this method would lead me to realize the resolution to this perplexing yet disturbing occurrence. I rolled my slick, smooth chapstick over my crusty, textured lips. The effect was soothing as I waited. My pupils were instantly drawn to an older female, crunched in a similar chair, clacking on a thick purple computer. Her font was enlarged, most likely because of diminishing eyesight. My brain could undeniably translate every sentence.
A fluffy dog chased his tail.
I had an instant distaste for how she assembled straightforward, unembellished terms to construct a simplistic sentence. My personal opinions crinkled as I regained my abilities. I began to ponder if an extravagant canine would appear, since she had laid the sentence sprawled on her device. But I was under the impenetrable impression that I was the only one who could activate this compelling ability. Every story had a resolution or conclusion, and I hoped that this unanswered conflict would not be the conclusion. As I pondered what my next action would be, my arm folded to grasp my thick beverage, only to instantly find that it was not there. My gaze was cast across the stylish business. A broad, striking college student replaced the chubby buxom female figure. Wrinkles appeared on my forehead, signifying that I had schocked, bewildered, and nonplus emotions. Then the unknown, skeptical solution began to materialize in my thoughts. As I was passionately constructing the narrative, the story felt existent, like a genuine concrete scene. My imaginative mind had wandered and made a visual version of the five fervidly positioned sentences. My tongue slipped over the border of my dried crusty lips and then I chuckled with a moderate contented tone. My prim fingers slammed close the matte cover of my computer and could not wait until the oncoming realistic escapade.