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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Can you imagine sharks swimming in the forest‚ where you live? It makes me scared to just think about the idea. As I am walking in the woods‚ I am startled by a floating shark. As I stand there stiff from fright‚ I wonder to myself what should I do. I look around me and see nothing but trees. As I think of a strategy‚ the shark is approaching. The shark has piercing blue eyes‚ jagged teeth‚ and speed like a race car. I feel lost due to the fright‚ but I must keep calm to figure out a plan. As the
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The icy air whistles around my ears‚ causing my skin to tingle and sting. My fingers and toes are going numb while I’m walking through the deep‚ thick snow. Snug inside my many layers of clothes‚ nothing can spoil the overwhelming feeling of being taken back to my childhood winter days. The urge to make a snowball is all consuming and I have to restrain myself from lying down in the middle of the street to make a snow angel. Every step I take leaves a fresh‚ crisp footprint in the snow‚ as if I am
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The Rollercoaster! There was a hectic day lying ahead of me; the car park was more or less full now. Sun cream was slapped on by worried mothers and sun caps were plonked on top of children’s heads. Smiling faces jumped around‚ excited about the day ahead. The sun was beaming bright onto my face and I could see cars aligned together‚ in orderly rows like soldiers on parade. Walking towards the rusty and rigid gates of the theme park‚ they opened slowly and excited children flooded in. In the distance
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It was so humid‚ but the game was too intense to stop playing. As I set the ball up for one of my teammates‚ she plunged off the ground and spiked the ball over the net‚ but all of the sudden the ball was just about to hit the ground. My competitor dove into the sand and prevented the ball from hitting the ground. The other team passed the ball around and on their second set a girl sprung from the ground and spiked it over the net and the volleyball hit the
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The colour black never represented me in any way‚ it had nothing to do with my nature‚ until now. Like an owl roaming around the lower east side of New York streets‚ we created the dark shadow of terror. Our masculine body armoured with a leather jacket and painted with absurd tattoos made society turn their heads towards the ground as we walk pass. As the sun goes down‚ the innocence of New York sleeps‚ while the predators hunt for their next victim. It was icy cold‚ yet we could bare it all.
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The lazy afternoon sun plants hot kisses on the nape of my neck as I drift up the garden path and towards the house. It’s the kind of heat that dries out your skin and chaps your lips. Towing an armful of bulky paper shopping bags‚ I slip through the side gate‚ shaded by the sweet smelling jasmine that climbs up the wooden fence palings. “Monet!” I shout‚ my eyes dart back and forth‚ surveying the empty yard. A heavy silence follows. My forehead prickles with worry when no little white dog with
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to the entrance the louder and booming the sound of partying was and to our astonishment we the place was flooding with drunken people celebrating whatever they’re happy about. The best part is that the main portion of the club was underground. As we partied on‚ burning the midnight oil‚ we began becoming drunk. I don’t know about the two of them‚ but I certainly noticed‚ I couldn’t walk in a straight line anymore and I barely knew what I was saying. We practically did not know anyone there and
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feeling of anxiety drip down my spine‚ feeling the outside world getting larger‚ and myself getting smaller. I shake it off as I begin to turn and enter the stage-room door. I hear the crowd cheering‚ I sit down at the keys microphone to my mouth about to play‚ when the crowd covered in stares becomes a pastel colored memory in the side-view of my vision. I feel peace come to myself‚ I am relaxed as the keys begin harmonize together. I don’t feel the need to drown out my anxieties in fantasies‚ the
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