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Source: https://writers.stackexchange.com/q/8206
License name: CC BY-SA 3.0
License URL: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

> Tsuki woke up to the morning sun that entered through the window. **She yawned and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing her eyes.** The clock on the wall said half past ten. **She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and then went downstairs.** When she reached the dinning room, she realized that there was no one there. Not even the owner of the inn. She checked the kitchen. No one either. They were probably still asleep. **Her stomach started growling so she decided to check the refrigerator.** Luckily, there was a can of tuna and tomatoes. **She fixed herself a sandwich with some bread she found on a shelf. Then she poured herself some orange juice, and went to sit at the table.**
> 
> **While eating she stared at the various paintings on the walls.** The owner of the inn had told them the other day that they were the work of a Chinese painter who had been their guest. He would wake up every morning exactly at nine, start a painting, and finish it before midnight. He did this continuously for six days. But then, on the seventh day, he suddenly disappeared. He didn't even check out—he just took his things and left. The man had paid in advance, so the owner didn't mind, though he was very puzzled by his behavior. The paintings were unlike anything Tsuki had seen before. She wasn't sure how to describe them. They gave her the feeling of being surreal and ordinary at the same time. Her favorite was one with an white ironing board put in the middle of an empty room. The most noticeable thing was, obviously, the missing iron. Where could it had gone? Tsuki was having a hard time debating whether it was a common setting or not. She couldn't decide. Though it was precisely that confusion that made the painting beautiful; the balance between what is possible and what is not.
> 
> **After finishing her breakfast, she went to take a walk at the beach.** She made her way through the sand barefoot, feeling the cold water and foam run between her toes. This was one of her favorite sensations in the world. It reminded her of her distant childhood. **Tired of walking, she sat in the sand, gazing at the sea.** There were still enormous waves, so high that they looked like skyscrapers. A big tree trunk was being tossed up and down among them. It was then that Tsuki glanced around and realized the beach was deserted. There was no one around. Where's everyone? **Puzzled, she went back to the inn and headed upstairs.** She knocked Meilin's door, but there was no response. Then tried Kazuo's. Nothing. **She then went for her phone and tried calling them. None of them picked up. Giving up, Tsuki went back to the living room and sat on the table again. She spent the rest of the day there, waiting for someone to come back.**
> 
> But no one did.

Of course, this doesn't happen in the [whole](http://alexandrochen.quora.com/) narration (the beginning is mainly dialogue and the ending exposes the climax).

I wonder if I'm adding too many unnecessary descriptions (e.g. the character moving from point A to B, and from B to C. Or doing task A and B, then B and C).

If that's the case, how can I improve the text?

**EDIT:**

Here are some parts of the text with a little bit more feeling:

> Tsuki woke up to the morning sun that entered through the window. She yawned and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing her eyes. The clock on the wall said half past ten. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and then went downstairs. When she reached the dinning room, she realized that there was no one there. Not even the owner of the inn. She checked the kitchen. No one either. They were probably still asleep. **Her stomach started growling—but no one was preparing breakfast. It was probably not right, but guided by her hunger, Tsuki went to check the refrigerator.** Luckily, there was a can of tuna and tomatoes. So together with some bread, she fixed herself a simple sandwich.
> 
> **After finishing her breakfast, Tsuki felt like taking a walk at the beach. She made her way through the sand barefoot, feeling the cold water and foam run between her toes. This was one of her favorite sensations in the world. It reminded her of a distant childhood. The period of time she spent whole afternoons in the beach, building sand castles with her father, and swimming under a vanilla sunset. When happiness seemed so simple and reachable. Where had those days gone? Now, they only existed as memories. But did they really belong to her?**

Original score: 3