Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24715887-20140329031418

Okay, so I was planning on writing a story like this where a man goes crazy after listening to some damn birds morning after morning. Night after night. So far, I only came up with the beginninng:

The man sat in his chair, sipping his tea. Looking out his large window to see the not quite expansive yard of his. It only stopped a few feet away from his house, but this he could live with. After all, traffic only passed by on very rare occasions. He was just about finished his tea, so he decided to grab his newspaper. Always sitting by his door, waiting for him to pick it up, and read it. The newspaper was nothing without him, so was he without it. It was a critical part of his daily routine.

He would awake in the morning. After doing so, he would neatly tuck his sheets around the corners of the matress. He would then shuffle into his slippers and walk downstairs. He ate his breakfast, and then, he would go back upstairs. He would then get dressed for work, clean himself up, then sit down for some tea. After he was close to finishing his tea, he would read the paper. After doing so, he would head on out the door and head to his work. Since he didn't have a car, he would walk to his work. And, more often than not, he would take a forested path on the way to his work. A path he familiarised himself with so much, that he remembered almost every single flower, every single tree, and every single squirrel he saw in the path. Once he got to work, he would wait and serve every single customer accordingly. No matter how upsetting they were.

(He worked at a small corner store, so what else was there to do?)

After a five hour day at work, he would walk back to his house in the normal, non-forested route and settle for the night.

Most people thought of this as a grueling, day to day task. But the man relished every moment of each day. That is, until they came.

He slowly awoke to the sound of tapping. A sound of tapping coming from someplace, somewhere. A tapping, rapping sound coming from the sink? Maybe a leak? No; it would be much more louder than that. A tapping, rapping sound coming from the rain? No; it would be much more faster and frequent. A rapping, tapping sound coming from the door? No; he never gets visitors. He slowly opened his eyes to see what was causing the source of the tapping sound. A bird.  