Extract 1

"Hm... no," dawn peaked over the distant hill as clatter from the pathetic-excuse-of-a-kitchenette reverberated through open windows. The enigmatic had lost his sense of punctuality — a common occurrence as of late and he, frankly, wanted no distractions of ordinary routine to cross his hyperfocalism.

"Marko! The curtain!" He waved his hand dismissively, splaying his fingers enough to shield his eye of the ray which threatened to blind him. The crow screeched a redundant "Polo!" while scooping by the sill to catch its beak on the cloth, draping it over what would have surely been another optical doom. Miran swore that he heard an attitude from the crow. Though common for the murder as a whole, he still mustered an eye roll as he scoffed on about the tone — really, where did the little ones get such improper slang from? The cicadas could not be that noisy, right?

Nevertheless, he finally tied the stubborn final knot, sealing together the work that had taken over his self-assigned free time. Of his personal genius, he had created the very solution for quality of life — or lack thereof. Or boredom. Take your pick.

Clapping his hands together in wonder, he whipped his form fully to his shadowed audience, extending his arms like a flailing showman... or a drowning child. "Behold! The invention of a millennia—" paper scrunched under his heel as he extended the frail ornament from the tassel tail to the roped hook. A patterned ceramic saucer stood crisscross tied from the centre, mimicking some sort of dream catcher.

It didn't last long before fatigue took over and he was hurled over by a misstep, twisting his ankle and face planting into splintered wood along with his super, definitely new and totally original creation. Laughter escaped the crooked beak of one of his older crows, followed by a cacophony of mockery from the rest of the murder.

He might as well stay there.

(please help im actually dying i hate my own writing but if i dont write ill never get better...........)