This is my most difficult skill to learn at present the ability to paint thr world in the mind of the reader. Characters matter to me and motivation of why people do things I find rich in art.

Here’s my attempt:

Smoke Wells felt the warmth of the sun on his face as he came to wakefulness on soft ground under his body. He dug his rough hand in the sand under him before fresh water cold rushed up splash over him.

Smoke opened his eyes lids slowly with painful effort and then looked up at the blue grey sky above. He groaned and worked to force his body to come to roll up to a sitting position on the sand.

He stared around him wondering at the palm trees and forest around him. He wondered where he was and how he got here.

He looked down at his torn trousers and wrapped up white shirt and wondered. He looked down at the long violent scars on his chest. He moved his mouth kicking his lips tasting dry blood and something else on his mouth and tongue.

“Welcome Smoke.”

Smoke looked around for the voice but he couldn’t find the owner. He knew some how though that the owner of the voice was watching him closely. Slowly he forced and worked himself to his bare feet. He ran a shakey hand through his dark wavy hair and pondered his next move before he saw a white light house on hip in the distance.

…..

We shall leave it right there.