So I wrote a thing this morning on the tram. It's the start to a story I'm not sure where it'll go. Give me some ideas, comments and critique.
The stench of stale beer and luke-warm meat hung in the air on the otherwise cold and crisp night. A few clouds hung in the air, keeping the temperature just above freezing. You could still see the clouds of steam from the breath of a man huddled in a nearby doorway trying to protect himself from the oncoming night as best he could. The tavern had shut its doors and thrown out the last screaming drunkard some hours ago. Its owners Stanislav and his two daughters; Maria his eldest, had turned eighteen a few ago, and Joanna 3 years her junior shared a room above the tavern. It was barely noticeable at first, the metal hinges of the shutters rattling as the embers of the fire faded in the grate. The drunk in the doorway could feel it, the tangible change in the air. He pulled himself into the doorway tighter hiding from the oncoming sound. It was a sound that everyone in the small Carpathian village knew too well but no one spoke of in anything louder than a hushed whisper.
