beachblue
The sofa was made of mint colored leather. I fell in love with it at first sight, and ignoring all the warning bells inside my head that told me not to spend so much, I bought it.
The villagers were planning to torch the inn. He gathered that they would do the deed in the dead of the night. That was the kind of mindset among them. Sneak around, make cowardly, despicable plans and carry them out in the cover of the night. He had no doubt now about who had set the patrons' horses free the previous week.
The homeless man sat in the booth and refused to budge. The waiters tried their best to coax him out with offers of food and drink. But he simply huddled in the corner of the seat, his straggly hair hanging over his face. Finally, the waiters decided to call the police.
There was a thief in the house. She was sure of it. Over the past decade she had grown so used to the moaning and groaning of the old house, she could distinctly separate foreign sounds from it. She sat up quietly in bed, pulled a ratty shawl over her nightie and padded over to the door.