One sentence. Thursday 25th April 2025.

Thursday, 24th April 2025.

Today’s sentence:

“Shimmering like a starling’s wing, the puddles of the pockmarked garage forecourt were the only brightness in a forlorn day.”

How did I arrive at the sentence above?
Well, it started in a garage forecourt on the most miserable of wet days in Ireland. The iridescence of the slick of small droplets of fuel oil, a permanent feature of any busy petrol station, were glistening on the many puddles. The surface of the station forecourt was cracked and worn, its concrete fractured and uneven. The colours reminded me of a starling’s plumage as they hung from the peanut feeder throughout the winter, shimmering like living Christmas tree ornaments. They chittering merrily as they dined, often upside down, on my cherry tree.

The sentence lodged for later use as:

• “The diesel stained the puddle like a starling’s wing.”

It evolved as:

• “The puddles of the broken garage forecourt shimmered like a starling’s wing.”
• “Shimmering like a starling’s wing, the puddles of the pockmarked garage forecourt were the only brightness in the day.”
• “Shimmering like a starling’s wing, the puddles of the pockmarked garage forecourt were the only brightness in a forlorn day.”