Here’s a small rough draft excerpt from a story I’m writing. Enjoy!
Tears sprang into her eyes. She just wanted to go home to Sunnyside, the flower garden of the city, where different cultures, music, clothing, and food intermingled like diverse exotic flowers in a botanical garden. Why did her parents send her to Uncle Bob and Aunt Maria’s farm? She and Cousin Stan had nothing in common. Pale, quiet, backward, bookish, Cousin Stan… Ariana sighed. He was as different from her as a person could be. Though he seemed excited to see her when she first arrived, he was quiet and didn’t talk much. When he did talk, it was to ask her questions about the city. Questions that made her homesickness worse. Why would he ask about the city anyway? He was so quiet… Why, he’d hate the city. It would be way too loud for him.