One

apart of my 52 weeks project is trying to write at least one thing-any kind of "thing"-a week.
I'll share those "things" here. They won't be perfect and formulaic and stuff. They'll most likely be trains of thought. Just a warning.
this is from last week.

Sound crept from the corners of the small room until it was crowded with the warm strumming of a guitar. There she sat on his bed as he softly sung about being young. The grey sky clouded over until it was as dark as twilight-although it was just afternoon.
He cleared his throat as his thin fingers found their home on the strings. The crowded sounds caused the room to warm until the girl was rather drowsy. She leaned on his bed post and closed her eyes-letting the sounds caress her ears until she was quite asleep.
Making a sudden motion, he finished the song.
She breathed in deeply and, while rubbing eyes, softly exhaled "it's lovely."