Valentine held tried to hold the wheel steadily‚ despite his shaking hands. They dripped with sweat beneath his sticky leather gloves. He used to never mind the warmth and humidity of the steam as it wafted past his nose‚ but today it choked him‚ as if he was trying to breath fresh air but only the dreaded heat of many engines filled his lungs. The sky seemed filled with such a wet haze‚ perhaps created by the many airships that filled the sky. Valentine has never seen so many ships in one place
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The icy air whistles around my ears‚ causing my skin to tingle and sting. My fingers and toes are going numb while I’m walking through the deep‚ thick snow. Snug inside my many layers of clothes‚ nothing can spoil the overwhelming feeling of being taken back to my childhood winter days. The urge to make a snowball is all consuming and I have to restrain myself from lying down in the middle of the street to make a snow angel. Every step I take leaves a fresh‚ crisp footprint in the snow‚ as if I am
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I sat there‚ stunned for an instant‚ listening to my coach announce the swimmers competing in the next race. Uneasiness rushed down my spine the moment my coach pronounced my name. My first race began in less than fifteen hours. The months of training before my competition built my endurance and confidence in swimming. I was prepared to tackle my first competition. When it came time to perform‚ the crowd was silent. I was on a ledge that was three feet above the water. I stared at the crystal blue
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The Rollercoaster! There was a hectic day lying ahead of me; the car park was more or less full now. Sun cream was slapped on by worried mothers and sun caps were plonked on top of children’s heads. Smiling faces jumped around‚ excited about the day ahead. The sun was beaming bright onto my face and I could see cars aligned together‚ in orderly rows like soldiers on parade. Walking towards the rusty and rigid gates of the theme park‚ they opened slowly and excited children flooded in. In the distance
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The startling sounds of my alarm clock causes me to shoot forward from my bed. After my short lived panic I remember why I am waking up before the sun. I fumble through the darkness gathering my hunting gear before snatching up my shoes as I head towards the door. Pausing briefly in the cluttered mudroom‚ I pull my brown boots over my aching feet. I throw the door open and step into the misty fog. I look to my left and see the sun slowing coming over the horizon. I watch as it fades from a dark
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green and black alarm clock goes off on the tableside next to my eardrum. I roll over onto my right side and hit the dismiss button turning off the vexatious sound. Slithering out of bed‚ I flick on the lights and slide on the usual black shirt‚ black jeans‚ and Converse; since it is the middle of January I put on a black beanie. I glide down the stairs and I topple over a colossal cardboard box and assuming it has Richard written in illegible letters‚ I know my stepdad has taken residence in my
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It was the 7th-grade year and everyone knew me well. One day‚ when I came home from school‚ there was no one there. Creek. Crack. Squeak. Squeak. I heard many small noises in my house. Then as I looked around‚ all my windows were wide open. There was a huge wind blowing through the air‚ harder than a hurricane. It felt like an air conditioner in the hot sweaty summer. Then suddenly‚ “ding‚ ding‚ ding!” My phone notification went off. The notification came from a social media app called Kik. The notification
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Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings
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The Windy City This past summer‚ I went on a trip to what I now call one of my favorite places. The spirit of Chicago embodied me. I had always wanted to visit Chicago. I had seen many photos of the beautiful Windy City‚ and my friends often spoke of their visit to the city. Once I arrived‚ I did not want to return home. I was ready to leave my old life behind and start over. Going to Chicago opened my eyes‚ and taught me that I am meant to live in the city. Walking downtown made me feel like an
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The Hunt Your alarm goes off waking you from a deep sleep. You sit up and open your eyes‚ crusty and trying to force themselves shut. As you slowly get all of your hunting clothes on‚ eat‚ load your gun‚ and bundle up your really want to just go back to bed. Finally‚ out the door you go. As you are tiptoeing through the woods‚ leaves crunching under your feet‚ the occasional snap of a twig when you accidently step on a branch‚ you try to make the least amount of noise possible. The cold feel of
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