Character Sketch

Something different today. I decided iambic pentameter could wait because the more pressing problem of characterisation has come up. I wrote a play with four characters and it was rubbish. After discussion with Melvin I decided it was because I didn't spend long enough on characterisation. So here's a wee character sketch written in 15 minutes.

Inside his new front door, the dark green curtain was drawn and the bedsit was dimly lit. Richard felt a tear prick and blinked fiercely. It was good he'd got his own place at last. Here he could play his music too loud and there would be no Sarah moaning. He could stain his mugs and spill his milk safely now. Mice were welcome. He walked to the window, edging sideways between the single bed and the musty great armchair, and opened the curtain. The weak light of three o'clock in Winter was enough to see the dust. So much for the landlord's promise of a cleaner. He'd probably lied about the new mattress too. Richard sat on the bed. Seemed alright. Better than his last bed. From here, he could reach and touch his fridge. He laughed. He could invite his mates over to see how many people he could fit in. It would be like that advert where they fit everyone in a telephone box, what was that for again? Tango? He couldn't dance a tango in here, that's for sure. At least the telly was big. He could crawl out of bed and sit in the armchair to watch Jeremy Kyle in the morning. He'd have his breakfast on his lap, all without touching the carpet. Richard began jumping from bed to armchair to fridge to kitchen cupboard. Good way of avoiding the last tenant's dry skin on the carpet. Good way of settling in.