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 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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walked pass my parent’s old bedroom. As I looked around‚ the bedroom itself hadn’t changed much since I was a little kid; I haven’t seen it in a while thought. I remember how I came in here a lot in the middle of a thunderstorm at night to wake my mother up‚ as I was too scared to sleep by myself. My father hated that! However‚ my mother always laughed her head off as she wondered how a little kid like me could walk all the way across the hallway to her bedroom in the dark‚ yet still be scared of thunder
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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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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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information‚ but it has no name to it. Maybe I should visit them? Take the letter with me and whilst I’m over there I should just pop in and trace back on who it is. The letter has a lot of information and stories about my family and the writer keeps apologising for not being there for me when I was little. I wonder if it’s a family member. Who could it be and why would I only just receive it now? I have to go visit them in France; I want to know who it is! As I said I have to make the most of my last few
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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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Exiting onto the unpleasant frigid city walkways of Oslo‚ Norway in the early winter morning of the Walk. The wind was blowing over the rough scene of the rural city. He is pacing down the bustling roads and pondering which foot will come next. "Left‚ Right‚ Left‚ Right‚ Right‚ Left. No‚ no‚ that can’t be correct." He murmured under his chilling breath. He slipped on the newly solidified walkways‚ he stood up and glanced around‚ feeling humiliated… he saw nobody‚ heard nothing‚ it was as peaceful
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Creative Writing - Belonging The clear‚ bright and enlightening blue skies greet my face as I ponder through my thoughts in my head. The sun blossoms it’s radiating sunlight‚ which glisten and reflect off the tranquil‚ wavy sea to reveal elements of a mystifying‚ inexplicable‚ yet convivial world. My heart beat pulsates through my ears… so silent and blissful this world of beggaring-description‚ words could not hope to utter moments like these. It was the idea of confronting‚ change and experience
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and so on. Once these glorious fish or sea urchins are cooked it’s a whole different story. The aroma is addicting and something that you never forget. You may be wandering why I am talking about the delicacies from fish. That is because a little over a week ago‚ 9 days to be exact‚ I won the power ball. As a little gag gift on my 18th birthday I decided to go buy a power ball ticket for the fun of it. Little did I know 9 days ago when I walked into that old musty gas station‚ full of patrons
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