Descriptive Writing – The forest. [pic] A crisp winter morning and there was a frosty chill in the air. A sweet surrendering scent of the moist morning dew that cascades all around the sublime forest. The mixed cool autumn leaves from the tall trees lay scattered on the forest floor; they were in the motion of turning a brittle brown. There was the sound of shattered glass that emphasised the leaves being crunched‚ as if you were to step on them‚ pushing their papery remains deep into the
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The Curious Traveller. If you only had a certain amount of time to live‚ would you live every day to the most of it? Well that’s what I have to do. I turned 40‚ 4 days ago and a week ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I was told I only have a few months to live. This is when I decided I had to make the most of the next few months; I decided I wanted to travel the world. I have 2 daughters‚ Tahlia (12yrs) and Molly (15yrs)‚ I also have a son‚ Chris (16yrs). My husband was there when we were told
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Just like every other day after school‚ Katie was taking a shortcut across a meadow to get home. She was walking in the meadow‚ surrounded by tall‚ green grass and flowers in all colours of the rainbow. She decided to explore the meadow and the forest surrounding it. She walked towards the forest‚ picking flowers on the way. Katie was so busy twisting the flower stems together to make necklaces‚ that she didn’t see the large hole a few meters ahead of her. Tumbling into the deep hole‚ Katie hit her
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Analyzation of Two Poems Melinda Polom September 12‚ 2013 I will first be giving to you‚ my analyzation of the short poem‚ titled‚ "First Fig"‚ written by author‚ Edna St. Vincent Millay‚ who was born in the year of 1892‚ and died in the year of 1950. I am at first‚ making the assumption that‚ when the author is speaking about a candle‚ which "burns at both ends"‚ that she must be comparing a candle‚ and the "light that it gives out”‚ using the candle‚ as a symbol‚ or as a “representative”
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The General pretended to sleep‚ hoping no one was watching her. She knew McKenzie’s men were angry with her‚ but they weren’t looking at the whole picture. She slid from her bedroll and snuck around the trees to where the horses were tied up. In the darkness it was hard to see‚ but she finally located her horse and led it away from camp. “And just where do you think you’re going?” A voice sounded loudly behind her. The General clenched her heart as it pumped wildly and spun around‚ staring
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As the breeze floated through the canopy‚ the forest’s quiet was broken by rustling branches and frantic leaves. When the wind died so did the sound‚ and the forest returned to it’s ghostly silence. For a wooded place‚ usually full of life thrumming together as one both day and night‚ this silence was abnormal. It was foreboding‚ and even in the light of day the woods were cold and dark‚ as if the sun’s rays could not pierce the leafy canvas as it had in the past. The air was heavy and threatening
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The worst feeling isn’t being lonely. It’s being forgotten by someone you would never forget. ~Unknown Of course‚ I ran. I wanted to confront her as quickly as possible. And get this over as soon as I could. Girls can be really nasty when they want to be and that’s not even the worst case scenario. Just around the corner! I skidded to a stop. What a sight I saw. She stood in the middle of a group of blonde girls (one‚ I assume is actually a brunette) and was surrounded by a swarm of people‚ flocking
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Briskly walking through the mysterious darkness of the menacing forest‚ grasping tightly my withering frozen hand‚ my petrified newly wed wife clung on for protection. It was pitch dark on a cold foggy night in the mid days of December. We were in search of somewhere to rest our staggering and lost bodies. My wife and I had been walking for miles through this never ending cursed old forest. Every step we made on the thin and almost transparent layer of snow had a sudden fall and we heard the snap
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I was disappearing again. I could feel it. I could feel the sterile white walls slowly sucking all the colour out of my skin. I could tell that the iron bars covering my window were slathering at the curve of my body. They were tired of always having to stand up straight; they too were slowly taking a part of me. They were taking my outline. The fluorescent light was burning the colour from my hair and the whispers were carrying it away strand by strand. I screamed and screamed for them to stop
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She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her but her kidnapper was advancing fast. She held her note close to her chest as mud splashed upon her bare arms and legs leaving streaks on her daisy patterned shorts. She tripped on a large rock‚ barely noticeable on the mucky ground and in moments her kidnapper was upon her. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t breathe. She cried‚ and in the final moments before death she murmured a faint sound. “Mommy” Stabbed viciously and beaten long after her
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