I am practicing to write in first-person POV and I was wondering if any of you could give me a Cnc or two:
It was twelve in the night, a loud tolling came from a bell not far from where I sat. The streets were sound and empty, save for some drunkards shouting about with some fellow honkers too. I lit up my cigarette, and began puffing out smokes from my every breath as it travels deep into my lungs, poisoning it with burnt shags of cocaine. It was a new habit I recently indulged in, and addiction was inevitable. Next to me laid my favourite earl grey tea, puffing out its aromatic fumes into my flaring nostrils.
I put out my almost drained stick-of-poison, and took a sip from my beloved heavenly cup of tea. I got out of my oak stump-chair, and headed towards the balcony in my front. And I couldn't stop from admiring the view of the city- Stickopolis- from which I stood afar. So beautiful as it was and so as it is now. It has been a long time since last I stroll along the alleys in the city in which I once got beaten up always when I was just nothing but of a frail, abandoned child. I fixed my gaze upon the huge white glowing dome- StickOps Inc. HQ- planted in the center of the city, shining out its wavering radial white glow. I stood in awe, and chuckled at the sound of roaring fire crackling in the dome, "Looks like Tom got pissed off just now." I sat back on my chair, leaned forward in excitement and my eyes had the hard, dry glitter which shot from them when I was keenly interested. A sudden excitement gushed into me, I rushed into my house in which is a yard behind me, and hasten my pace towards my office.