Write200: week two

It's been tricky to chose my write200 sample this week. Despite my best intentions, most of my pieces have centred around the same story, but I'm quite enjoying dipping in and out of the world, working out some of its quirks and getting to know the characters without any pressure. I got a copy of John Yorke's Into the Woods for my birthday and I'm going to read that before I fall down the planning rabbit-hole. I think this is my favourite part of writing - the very early stages when an idea is rough and anything is possible. 

Snowflakes brushed against the glass like fingertips; a gentle, barely-audible beat that filled the otherwise silent room. 

Home was never this quiet. Home was always a hive of activity: Papa preparing clothes and fabrics for the market; Mama busy mending, fixing, tinkering with the house - our lives; Freya was a whirlwind of energy, never too tired to play, never too exhausted to make noise. I missed the life that flowed through our house; the happiness contained in those everyday noises. I’d never appreciated them until now. 

Now, the quiet of the palace was suffocating. Small noises roared like klaxons. Not just the snowflakes made a racket: silk slippers across marble floors; the soft breaths of the guards on the door. The palace was loud and silent all at once; full of far more people than had ever stepped foot in our townhouse at one time, but so much emptier. Lonelier. 

Tears splashed onto my newly-bejewelled fingers before I even realised I was crying. 

Great. Now I’d have to arrive at the breakfast feast with puffy eyes and ruined makeup: the princess who wanted to go home. 

I took a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from the window. I ran my fingers under my eyes to wipe away the tears but dipped my head down to avoid the mirror by the door; I had no interest in surveying the damage I’d done. A clay mug wouldn’t fit into a porcelain tea-set just because it was polished. It would be better to appear exactly as I was. No point establishing standards I’d only fail to keep. 

It's rough around the edges, and probably doesn't make sense without all the accompanying backstory contained in my head, but I think the imagery at the end has potential.