Her’s a little bit of a previous project which I discontinued due to some difficulties in writing style. Tell me what you think:
I looked up. There it was, over on the corner. I walked to the door, slowly. When I saw it was locked, I turned around and walked to the back. The employees’ delivery entrance was locked too. All right, time for my literary adventurers to have their laugh.
A fine detective I was, writing about daring escapades and not knowing how to climb into a window two stories above me. Ok, Samuel, it’s time for you to learn something new. I climbed onto an oak tree and moved from the outstretched branch to the building ledge. I went up, going higher with each window. Finally I reached the dark window I was looking for. The window was closed so I opened it and stepped inside. I checked my watch. 6:00.
I slid into the room. The dark enveloped me and every step creaked on the panels. There was muffled noise from the office next to me. I tensed. The air pulsed with tension and I moved again. No sound. I moved my flashlight onto the desk. The nameplate on the office desk didn’t show the name I was hoping for. It seemed that this office belonged not to Dixon, but an A. W. Howe. I turned on the desk light on and began to go through the papers. Maybe there’d be some records that would tell me something. Footsteps sounded outside the door. I stopped moving through the desk and turned off the light. The silhouette stopped as if listening for something. My heartbeats were like drums in my ears and my hands felt clammy. The shadow went to leave. I opened the drawer and the musty scent of old paper wafted up. My nose itched and I sneezed. The shadow stopped moving. The knob turned…
…I wrote this about two or three years ago. What do you think of it?