My Book (some preview pages)

By the way, I'm not a writer..but just thought writing a book can be a good way to improve & practice on my writing. I stopped writing for a couple of months to focus on GMAT. I should be done with the book soon. Give me two more months. ^-^

I started writing about the male protagonist in my book. Know anyone like this? Mysterious but kind?

Well here's the excerpt from my book (Chapter 8).

Everything’s closed up. It’s so cold out here. The train is about six blocks. Maybe it is later than usual and I’ll make it. I love being outdoors at night, you just don’t see the imperfections of life so much. You don‘t see the peeling paint on buildings or the graffiti. You can’t see through the windows into the messy sides of people’s lives. All these things are covered over in a big black cloak. All I see now are the lights, the streetlights, the neon, the Christmas lights in shop and apartment windows as I’m running to catch the train. Cold air is whipping around my face and my scarf is flying behind me like the tail of a kite.

There are not too many people on the train tonight. Across the aisle there’s an old man that I’ve seen lots of times before. He never acknowledges me, but I say hello and happy New Year to him anyway. He just turns his head away and looks out the window. Sitting right across from me is mismatched-thread guy.

The last time I saw him it was about a month ago. It was in the late evening. A family with five children of varying ages was sitting near him. They were actually running, jumping and bobbing over the seat more than sitting. I was a few seats away and I heard the littlest child singing to him, although I couldn’t tell what the words of the song were. She kept repeating the same refrain over and over again. Other passengers were shifting in their seats during this squeaky symphony and they seemed annoyed but mismatched-thread guy just listened and watched. After a little while she handed him a toy duck she had been holding that had a bobbing head. It was almost like an award he should receive for listening so attentively to her performance. He didn’t crack a smile, but he took the toy solemnly as if she had given him something of great value. She continued to sing and then he moved the toy back and forth so its head bobbed in rhythm with her voice. This delighted her and she started to laugh. For a few seconds she forgot about the performance and stretched out her fingers to touch the tip of his nose. The parents were busy with the rest of their brood and never saw this wonderful exchange. I was happy I saw it.