Tora dangled her legs over the ledge and swung them back and forth, watching as the final dying stars flickered far below. The light they gave off was little more than a feeble blue glow, struggling to light the small clump of earth that Tora sat on, a small floating chunk less than two metres across in any direction...
Modern Age Writer
Sleep rubbed from the eyes. The clock ticked silently, the dull green light of its digital numbers illuminating the cluttered desk.
Night Owl
Did that punctuation belong there? It didn’t look right. And that word, surely that made absolutely no sense to have it in the phrase she did. Or was it? Maybe she was overthinking it, after all she had been at it for well over five hours...