Creative writing As I wind down my window piercing sounds of cicada instantaneously bash my ear drums with their high pitched drill echoing into the bush. Hot air swells into the open window‚ and is being pushed back out by the ice cold air conditioning which effortlessly hums out of the vents. The strong sweet smell of summer fills my nostrils with every breath I take. It was just like I had left it so many years ago. The rigid road leaves a enormous dust cloud behind me. It feels like I am a
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English Creative Writing The soft cushions‚ the filtered light fell upon the faded‚ dusty dark carpet. “She was a good woman‚ your Grandmother‚ she taught me a lot‚” said Jenna‚ trying to comfort me in my despair. I didn’t reply because it would encourage more of her pointless words of sympathy‚ adding to the awkwardness of the situation. “Would you like to hear about our experience at the lake in the summer of 1965?” Jenna exclaimed. Although I did not want more pathetic words of comfort‚ this
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Creative writing first draft In today’s modern society‚ media is everywhere. Even at an early stage in life‚ people are heavily exposed to media. According to a study concluded by Kaiser Family Foundation (2010)‚ teenagers spend about 53 hours per week on different sort of media; such as television‚ internet‚ and film. As it has become a huge part of people’s everyday lives‚ one may question what role this plays in terms of shaping the opinions and positions of the younger generation. In
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Discovery – Creative Writing Write an original narrative which deals with the idea that the best discoveries are unintended. You must include a birthday party. The lingering light was immersed by the rapidly falling night. The once salmon‚ purple sky transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black that engulfed the whole town. Yet at the corner of the street‚ the house remained unchanged. Supported only by stilts‚ its shabby character inconsistent to the grace and elegance of its neighbours. Its door
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me just enough room to stay on the bed with her. Until that day after my 6th birthday that I wasn’t able to wake her up no matter how hard I tried…. Everyone around me except my father was crying‚ and was convincing me that my mother’s in a better place and is looking down at us now. Of course‚ I didn’t really have a clue on what was going on‚ my mother was a beautiful‚ beautiful woman. My life would be so much different if I get to grow up beside her. My grades might’ve been better if she at least
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Creative writing: Achievement standard 2.4 Title: Insanity Statement of intent: This piece was influenced by my feelings and thoughts on mental illness and how society deals with it. The piece itself is a metaphor of looking beyond a person’s appearance and what they are truly dealing with inside. I have experienced the effects of a mental illness and how it effects your daily routine. The perspective is a doctor who is working with a mentally sick patient and has to tell her she is making no progress
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A family as dysfunctional as ours‚ you must understand why being so different is so hard. Having a twin brother who is the perception of a golden child‚ and a sister‚ who is probably going to be the next Miss America‚ really makes you stand out as the ‘other’ sibling. I obviously lack the physical genetics which my brother and sister gained to my disadvantage. Being in my family is hard; not knowing which snide remark would come next towards my supposed unworthiness to sit at golden table for dinner
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Reflective Essay Conclusion: During writers craft the genre that I enjoyed writing most was poetry. I love everything about poetry. Poetry is a piece of writing that can be interpreted in many different ways while being written in one. My favorite part about class was writing poetry and the many different types of poems we wrote. I was not too big on the fact of reading poems in class sometimes that where too hard for me to understand. I am more of a reader who likes to know what is going on
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Creative Writing He had stood that day‚ the world’s foremost spokesman of popular government‚ saying that democracy was yet worth fighting for… He incarnated the assurances and pretenses of popular government‚ implied that if could and might perish from the earth… He did not assume that the drafted soldiers‚ substitutes‚ and bounty – paid privates had died willingly under Lee’ shot and shell‚ in deliberate consecration of themselves to the Union cause. His cadences sang the ancient song that
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Once there was a girl. A girl that didn’t think she ever mattered. Sure‚ she had good parents and decent grades‚ but she never thought herself to be worth anymore than a plastic wrap on the ground. The girl isolated herself whenever she could‚ only speaking when it was required by her teachers. Even so‚ half the grade thought she was mute. She learned a fair amount of sign language to encourage the rumor‚ just so that more people would leave her alone. If anyone had truly paid attention to her
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