Wind softly caressed my cheeks‚ sending strands of my hair dancing across the back of my neck‚ the roaring crash of the waves against the rocky shore attempted to distract me‚ and the salty scent of the sea crept through my nose. My concentration‚ however‚ never broke. It was as if all the elements of the nature surrounding me realized I wasn’t easily distracted. Everything stopped at once. In only a moment there was no longer any wind‚ no salty air‚ and no obnoxious sound. It all paused for a single
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shattered sharp like knives over the floor‚ picks up rays which dance along the window sill‚ moist air made it seem like a shower had been taken‚ letting off a putrid smell‚ as though something was withering away in the corner and had been forgotten about. The shower curtain lay half hanging on the shower hook‚ plastic and slashed as though someone grabbed it to support themselves which they were falling. It reminds me of the movie psycho the scene of the bathroom‚ the door pushed slowly open‚
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were made of little caramel candies and they sparkled when the sunlight hit them. His hands were thick winter gloves that felt rough to the touch. But as of them‚ we were not on good terms. We had been arguing constantly about childish things‚ things children don’t even argue about. I swiped down on the notification bar
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slowly squeeze the trigger. As your gun goes off and punches you in the shoulder you see the deer disappeared into the brush. You sit there comprehending what just happened and debating with yourself about when you will go out to look for blood. The shaking in your hands slowly goes away after about 10 minutes and anxiety sets in. All you can think is “did i hit it” or “am i going to find
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how to show the movement of the arm. It didn’t help that the arm of the statue was not proportionally correct. The arm was long and thin but when I drew it‚ it was too long and too thin. When I drew it again‚ it became too thick and too short. After about 20 minutes of just working on the arm‚ I gave up. I was so frustrated and I just didn’t know how to make it look right. I looked over to my left to where another girl was working. I looked at her artwork and was amazed. Her picture of the glass bottle
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I sigh lowering into an old wooden chair seated in a corner of the small shop I happened upon. Placing my warm drink on the rickety table‚ I stare out a nearby window and give a slight shiver. Grabbing the edges of my worn wool coat I pull the old coat tighter. The action doesn’t do much itself‚ but it makes me feel better. I look outside again‚ my eyes drifting over dull‚ empty markets‚ the slow rain drizzles down the pane of glass as I continue to look outside. A heavy cloud of gray has been hanging
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The violent rattle of the train crawling along the tracks shook me awake. If only it had been a dream. I lifted my head and looked around‚ taking in the sheer horror that marked everyone’s face. The tears‚ the sweat‚ the cries of the children. I closed my eyes‚ took a deep breath‚ and stood up. I could barely move around the cramped car‚ but I looked up to the window. The bleak landscape rushed by‚ just as it had yesterday‚ and all I could think of is where we were going. Somewhere in Poland‚ someone
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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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I stop at the edge of the graveyard. I am thoroughly equivocal about what to do. The wind whistles through the trees and the branches rattle the windows of a nearby building. My hands clutch the handlebars of my bike. I stare in the dark at the text message on my phone-- “ meet me in the graveyard at 9:00 and I’ll give you the photo.” My mind implores me to turn around‚ but my heart compels me to keep moving. The rain changes from a drizzle to a downpour. A whooshing sound startles me and I look
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The streets were empty again‚ as they had always been. A short breeze blew across the cracked roads of the city‚ and a deafening silence hung in the air. How long had I been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? It was like time had been compressed - or maybe it had expanded. Battered street lights towered around me with their cracked light bulbs. As I continued down the broken path before me‚ rocks and concrete slid and crunched beneath my steps. The torrid heat of the afternoon stung my skin‚ and the
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