I was on the train back to Uni, and decided I really wanted to write, but I've put aside all of my writing projects (By which I mean novel writing) and wasn't in the mood to do comedy or play scripts, so I decided to try out a writing exercise. It most likely already exists, but I limited myself by my own rules.

Basically, my problem has always been that I will plan for a long time constructing sentences in my head, write a small amount, and then read and re-read what I've written until I've made it sound as good as I can. In small doses this would be a good thing, but I do it so much that I never get more than a page or so of a story written. So I decided to just... write. To write and not read what I'd written, to not plan ahead. Just write and see where it went. I could correct or edit something if I hadn't finished the sentence (Or only just finished it) but it would have to be something I noticed while writing, not something I'd read back. I could also pause to think, but not to structure sentences, just to get a general idea of where I was going. It was fairly interesting to do, but probably not to read XD

I've also found I focus too much on dialogue, and not on descriptions, so I tried to do a bit more of that. But enough waffling, the (very) short story, which is also unfinished;

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He sat on the train, idly doodling on the discarded newspaper before him. After a moment, he stopped and stared out the window. He tapped his foot on the floor to an imagined tune and then coupled it with the pen tapping his teeth.
“Nervous?”
He looked across the small table to the suited figure opposite.
“Do I look nervous?”
“Like a mouse at a snake farm”
There was a short silence between them, punctuated by the rhythmic beating of the track, and then his pen tapping the table. He stared out the window. The city had been left behind, and they were now passing through endless countryside. White bovine blurs were the only break from green nothingness. He shrugged.
“I’ve never done this before”
“It gets easier every time”
“How many times have you done it?”
The man laughed, but gave no other discernable reply. They said nothing for a long time. A large woman with an unsuitably colourful uniform came collecting tickets, but skipped their compartment. He suspected the staff knew of his companion’s reputation.
The train stopped at a village in the middle of the countryside. No one was on the platform. A single old lady got off, and waved at the train left. The suited man chuckled to himself, but said nothing. After what seemed like a very long time, and perhaps was, it began to grow dark outside. The train plunged into a tunnel, and quite when it emerged he couldn’t say, because there seemed no change in the intensity of the darkness. The ceiling lights switched on silently and automatically. He sighed, reached for the graffiti-ridden newspaper and flipped to a random page and began to read. Eventually, he found an article of interest, and sat back with a sigh. He absent-mindedly tutted as he read of this particular atrocity from half way across the world.
“You know better than that”
He looked up, and the suited man was staring at him.
“Sorry?”
“That” he repeated, nodding to the newspaper with folded arms and a vaguely disapproving expression.
“Why?”
“You know exactly why”
He sighed, folded the paper, and tossed it aside. After another period of silence, he pulled it towards himself again and, rummaging around for his pen, continued to doodle. Suddenly, the train went over a slight bump, and his pen slipped from his grasp and rolled across the table, onto the floor and below his seat. The suited man rolled his eyes, and stared out the window.
Leaning down, he grasped for his pen, but found it out of reach. With a slightly pathetic expression, he dropped to the ground and reached for it.

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Then I reached my stop, so I stopped writing. However, the vague direction I went in was that there was going to be an explosion, and he only survives because he was on the floor after his pen. I don't know either of their names, and I don't know what they're doing (Or what it is 'he' has never done before). I also don't know why he knows better than to read the paper. It's just what I wrote *shrugs*

Also, there are a few edits I'd have liked to have made, but I didn't let myself. This is as I wrote it, excluding a few fixed spellings and punctuation.