Creative Writing My breath steamed the air‚ my eyes wide open looking into the distance as drips of sweat rolled down my forehead. My ears twitched at every sudden noise; I just hoped nothing would jump out of the darkness. I kept thinking about where I was and how I got to this place. Every footstep echoed for miles as I stepped upon the Iron Gate‚ the noise rattling my brain. I came to a halt‚ my sweaty hand roaming over the freezing cold steal on my chest as I tightened my only protection
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ENG 2126 Creative Writing #8 June 9‚ 2010 It never fails that an incident that occurred in our family years ago‚ involving my grandmother and one of her children’ s father‚ told and has been many of years. It is sad to say that my family is quite violent or should I say knows how to defend them strongly in any situation. With all the turmoil and fighting that the head of the family has been through it has been taught for the members of the family to be able to defend themselves in any given
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Creative Writing R.I.P Rory His room decorated with graphs‚ tags and throws. The floor hidden beneath paint covered clothes scattered everywhere‚ aerosol cans and paper covered in his new tag that he has been practicing. He puts on his pitch black hoodie. The hood hides every detail of his face keeping his identity masked. Throwing his blood red bandana and his spray paint cans stone cold from the paint concealed inside into his bag he is ready to burst out and create a masterpiece. As he emerges
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Descriptive Writing Task The aim of this lesson is to write a piece of original writing about a deserted house. You and your friend have just finished school and on the way home and you need shelter from the sudden change in weather. You see a deserted house and decide to enter it. Describe in detail the appearance of the house and the path that leads up to the front door. How do you feel as you approach? What type of door do you enter? Imagine that you have gone through the doorway
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I felt expelled and exiled‚ sitting in a room filled only with a bed. White walls which painted no imagination‚ no hope just emptiness; yet they still assured me I was meant to be here. Every day was the same as the last‚ every memory I captured had slowly escaped. I was considered dangerous‚ vile and out of control; these words constantly surrounded me‚ swirling around in the echoes of the halls. 15 years I have been here‚ and still not once has my voice box being strained. Everyday new comers
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Re-creations ESSAY PLAN A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM * descriptive piece on how I envisage my MSND‚ takes place in an arboretum‚ been there before several times‚ tranquil‚ beautiful‚ magical‚ mysterious‚ near a small village behind local pub‚ old church opposite‚ pub was once a nunnery in 16th C‚ joined to church by underground passage‚ nun attended trees‚ honesty box * my dream‚ walk towards shallow pond‚ barefoot‚ warm day‚ ot sweaty or overheating‚ long golden hair‚ nude but not exposed
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My role in my future has been just to wait‚ but after countless years of just waiting‚ the future grows dark and sneering‚ ugly and terrifying. Its laughter reverberating off the walls I have faced each and every day. The unknown becomes a scary place‚ when all you know becomes all you had – my own defence is the reason to my hopelessness. I cling to familiarity only to find myself alone in my own confinement. My ‘personal space’ lost its liberty many years ago. When you are handed the gateway‚
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or the pleasure of love or the power of love. Show how the poet’s exploration deepens your understanding of the pain or the pleasure or the power of love. 15. Choose a poem in which there is a powerful evocation of place. Show how the poet powerfully evokes a specific place to explore an important theme. 2012 1. Choose a play in which a character shows signs of instability at one or more than one key point in the play. Explain the reason(s) for the character’s instability and discuss how
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Theme = Belonging and Alienation *** = Time shift Jim left the as it bellowed dust when it left taxi the gazed on the side of the dirt road and saw the farm where he grew up‚ it was old and bare‚ like an African village‚ the animals were thin from the drought. As Jim walked down to the gate‚ his childhood memories came flooding back and he hung his head in disbelief at the state of the farm. “Hey son! Come in.” Jim continued to the brick farmhouse‚ greeted by his father‚ 6ft with a beard of
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the flavescent4 moon; I was completely alone. Shivering slightly‚ I turned and hurried on‚ trying to shake off the ever-present feeling of being watched. As the dimming umber sun sank further down towards its slumber‚ and the whey moon took its place‚ I forged on; the trees were getting closer and the brambles wilder the further into the forest I travelled. I was beginning to tire‚ but I pushed myself forwards‚ willing myself to carry on‚ to not give up.
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