The clouds huddle together ominously‚ their dark curves mocking the landscape. The horizon is threatening and angry‚ the clouds roll in with the roaring thunder brewing destruction. A flock of birds disperse rapidly as a bolt of lightning illuminates the gloomy sky. The once golden land is now a black haze. The violent wind hurtles towards me‚ tearing through the building that once protected me. Anything standing in its way is wrecked. The wind charges through the leaves of the swaying trees
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Eric Moore Essay #1 #365 September 4‚ 2010 My eyes and ears open to the sound of chirping birds outside the dew covered window and my alarm buzzing behind my head. I sense that my room is still messed up from the night before after I threw my gym bag down from practice yesterday night. I stretch my arms and legs as I prepare to get out of my warm bed. I was so sore from practice it felt as if my muscles turned of and I couldn’t move for the whole time. I started to get the feeling back into
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Her heels‚ two sizes too small‚ clack as she walks down the narrow street. The long journey has taken a toll on her feet. Loud cries throb in the mind as her feet beg her to take her shoes off‚ the backs of them rub against her heels. Tall buildings like giants‚ tower above‚ fingertips brushing the pitch-black sky. The moon‚ a frozen sun‚ creating dancing shadows like a puppeteer. Her shadow‚ tall and slender‚ portrayed before her making her aware of her bad posture. The taste of the coldness of
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As I sit in a dimly lit room of my penthouse I look past the large movie that is projected onto the large windows and out into the night. I see the many apartments and skyscrapers obstructing my view and hiding the stars of the night sky. Rain softly hits the windows and I feel a moment of total utter peace. My legs lay on the hard oak coffee table in front of me‚ giving me a cool sensation on my legs. Even though it’s warm in the room I lie under a soft blanket with my boyfriend and we happily watch
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It has been a while since I had written a letter to you. I hope all is well. I had promised earlier to write a letter about how things were going here at the front‚ however‚ I refrained from doing so because I did not want to cause alarm. The war is continuing without an end in sight‚ however‚ I have been assured that it will not be long before I can see you again. Life is quite interesting here at the front. My friends and I joined the war as a product of pride and glory. However‚ the trenches
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Jessica Schmidt Mr. Kelly English Composition I 1 March 2017 Soccer Ball The darkness is extremely overwhelming. I have been sitting in this bag for far too long. I can feel myself deflating. Suddenly‚ my gloomy home began to move‚ and a bright beautiful light from the sun appears above me. The rough big hands picked me up and placed me on the soft grass. I can feel the warmth of the bright sun on me. All the thoughts running through my head about what is going to be my task this time. I am
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Entering a large venue‚ walking on what seemed to be a mile long stage‚ knowing that all eyes are staring at me. Stage lights flood the stage‚ music begins. Being backstage‚ anxious to get on stage and perform. This is what happened on my first Nutcracker show in the Party Scene. It was a cherished and unforgettable moment and a thrilling feeling I will never forget. In those minutes‚ I knew dancing was an enjoyment for me. It was a day in December‚ my friends and I were walking up to the auditorium
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My bare feet chafe against the rough plastic of my bike pedals. I pedal as fast as I can‚ but it’s still not fast enough. A colossal headwind slows me down‚ making me work twice as hard to go half as fast. I need to get to the beach before dark‚ and I can already see the sun setting through the careening trees. To my relief‚ the sharp smell of salt and decomposing seaweed soon fills my nostrils. Despite everything‚ I manage to smile at the thought of all the euphoric memories I associate with the
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I am surrounded by pink and orange colors layered with a slightly hazy film. Small‚ wet droplets hit the side of my face. The gritty feeling in between my toes is chilling but yet very pleasing. A few strands of my blonde hair brush across my face caused by the wind whistling through the fishy tasting air. I can smell the saltiness lurking above the water as the clear liquid creeps closer to my buried toes. The sound of the gentle crashes comes from in front of me and beyond under the pink and orange
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One hot‚ humid‚ August morning around seven a.m.‚ the smell of the lake water had already filled my nostrils. The temperature was already in the eighties and my lip had developed a fine sweat mustache. I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had arrived at the landing site fifteen minutes early; this allowed me time to get my gear organized and wonder the quiet landing site. As I stepped out of the truck‚ the door squeaked open. I gave it a heavy‚ handed push to close‚ as it was old and didn’t always
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