David Pike
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 319
- OOC First Name
- David!
- Wand
- Walnut Wand 14 1/2" Essence of Vampire Blood
The sounds of quills on paper and ancient pages turning were basically the only sounds heard in the Library. David sat by himself at a table scribbling away at an attempt at a sonnet, he quickly crumpled up the heavily marked on parchment in his hand and put it down on the table. So much for that one. David looked up for a second and saw that the library seemed to be a little busy today. Mostly students in groups of friends. He only felt a little lonely though, because luckily he was in a good mood that day. He looked down at his blank parchment and the small (but growing) pile of crumpled parchment next to it. Stupid writer's black. It happened all too often.
He grabbed his quill and dipped it in his ink. Then he sat and thought, quill at the ready. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to mind. David sighed and put down his quill, placing his head in his hands shortly afterward. He wanted to write when he was out of school, but unless he could get back to... well... writing that probably wouldn't happen. His stupid writer's black had plagued him for the past six months. He hadn't written a single good poem, story, or essay in that time. Well, good essay by his standards. He cared more about if it was enjoyable to read then if it was pertaining to the topic at hand. He hadn't gotten bad grades on any of them though.
David looked up at the table space in front of him. Slowly, he grabbed the book he had brought with him. It was a book of poetry, specifically by a famous muggle author. Edgar Allen Poe. He enjoyed Poe's work quite a bit, but since he was in Slytherin he didn't speak much of it. Actually, he just didn't speak much at all. He dusted off the cover and began to read the first poem in the book...
He grabbed his quill and dipped it in his ink. Then he sat and thought, quill at the ready. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to mind. David sighed and put down his quill, placing his head in his hands shortly afterward. He wanted to write when he was out of school, but unless he could get back to... well... writing that probably wouldn't happen. His stupid writer's black had plagued him for the past six months. He hadn't written a single good poem, story, or essay in that time. Well, good essay by his standards. He cared more about if it was enjoyable to read then if it was pertaining to the topic at hand. He hadn't gotten bad grades on any of them though.
David looked up at the table space in front of him. Slowly, he grabbed the book he had brought with him. It was a book of poetry, specifically by a famous muggle author. Edgar Allen Poe. He enjoyed Poe's work quite a bit, but since he was in Slytherin he didn't speak much of it. Actually, he just didn't speak much at all. He dusted off the cover and began to read the first poem in the book...