Creased black boots

I asked a friend, scriptwriter, to write two sentences which were descriptive. Then I took one of his sentences based on that room setting and wrote out my own descriptive twist. Later, he suggested I change two words to make it more imaginative. He gave me, “creased” and “faded.”


An eerie draft breathes through the cold, dark and damp room, which is barely lit by the moonlight from the window. As I walk across the dry floorboards, some jutting up from years of wear and tear, they creak and crack, heaving under the weight of my creased black boots. I reach into my pocket an pull out a weathered diary and a pen. The corners are folded and the pages faded sandy brown.

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