The sun was glistening on the ocean as I glided in. Thinking to myself that this was the best vacation a fourth grader could have‚ I observed the ripples as I inhaled the sweet scent of the refreshing water. Boogie board in hand‚ I swam out farther to catch a wave. Soon‚ when I had not been paying attention‚ I realized I had gone out too far. That moment was the first most panic stricken I’d ever been. Noticing the splashes of the waves more than anything‚ I never became fully aware about how far
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additional smells; Smells of dust‚ smoke and blood from the surrounding area. These smells bring in feelings of anxiousness and nervousness as you have no idea if you are the next target‚ will you be joining those already scattered on the ground in pieces after the next massive explosion. As you venture further into hell the screams and shouts from nearby soldiers gets progressively louder. Gunshots and explosions are sounding closer as you continue creeping further into depths of hell. Debris from explosions
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As I sit in a dimly lit room of my penthouse I look past the large movie that is projected onto the large windows and out into the night. I see the many apartments and skyscrapers obstructing my view and hiding the stars of the night sky. Rain softly hits the windows and I feel a moment of total utter peace. My legs lay on the hard oak coffee table in front of me‚ giving me a cool sensation on my legs. Even though it’s warm in the room I lie under a soft blanket with my boyfriend and we happily watch
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It has been a while since I had written a letter to you. I hope all is well. I had promised earlier to write a letter about how things were going here at the front‚ however‚ I refrained from doing so because I did not want to cause alarm. The war is continuing without an end in sight‚ however‚ I have been assured that it will not be long before I can see you again. Life is quite interesting here at the front. My friends and I joined the war as a product of pride and glory. However‚ the trenches
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One hot‚ humid‚ August morning around seven a.m.‚ the smell of the lake water had already filled my nostrils. The temperature was already in the eighties and my lip had developed a fine sweat mustache. I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had arrived at the landing site fifteen minutes early; this allowed me time to get my gear organized and wonder the quiet landing site. As I stepped out of the truck‚ the door squeaked open. I gave it a heavy‚ handed push to close‚ as it was old and didn’t always
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For the first time‚ I struggled with my buoyancy; I don’t know how fast I sank‚ but it was more than one foot per second. The pressure was intense. I needed to equalize; I pushed the air connector on BC-jacket to get a shot from the tank to counteract my sinking‚ letting the air out slowly to descend at a proper rate. I moved one step up‚ two steps down until I touched the ocean floor. The echoed sound of my breathing jolted out of sync with my movements. A thermocline from above and below traveled
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The once sunny day of the beach was tainted with a storm brewing above. As everyone scattered off the beach‚ they quickly grabbed their possessions as rain fell down upon them. The music playing form the cafes and rides suddenly come to a stop as their customers quickly disappear. The once happy sound of laughter was silent as the grave. A dark shadow stretches its arms form over the ocean once more and the once mighty sun is blotted out. Even the laughing seagull is nowhere to be found for they
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A rush of crisp morning air-filled my lungs as I inhaled. Roaring water attacking the banks of the river captivated my eyes. 8 o’clock‚ the perfect time to be kayaking because the water still resembled glass displaying white sand littered with seashells and the natural soothing breeze relaxes my unusually tense body. Even the scenery is perfect at this time because the sun gives the colored tear shaped leaves a warm glow. Everything about kayaking is perfect‚ except for one thing…spiders. The
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Autumnal weather is nothing compared to the winter‚ freezing my veins and forming cracks that run up and down my arms as I start to break‚ but every tear is freezing as quickly as it flows. I cannot help but feeling that things are beginning to fall apart. It was as if you induced me into a long lasting coma where my dreams were more appealing than the world you left me in‚ walking alone as a lonely vessel of what I once was. Left in the dark‚ much like the night at the bar‚ my most prominent memory
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Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings
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