Germany’s crisp winter air crept beneath the door as the beige-brown blanket held me tight. My phone read 11:30 pm and my eyelids began to feel heavy and started to slide down like blinds on a window. My body jolted as my phone vibrated in my hand. Tyson had sent me a text. It sounds cliché but Tyson was my everything. He was as tall as a tree and whenever we walked together I felt like an ant next to a skyscraper. His eyes were made of little caramel candies and they sparkled when the sunlight hit
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delved into the written word I began to recognize writing as a powerful tool for expression. I turned to poetry and short stories to capture childhood moments‚ expanding my vocabulary and becoming skilled at transferring raw emotions and ideas onto paper. My parents encouraged me to make frequent trips to the library‚ and I often staggered home beneath the weight of a pile of novels. When I entered high school as a published author and poet‚ my writing continued to mature. Although I still marveled
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all of those grueling days practicing to use‚ we took what playing time we could get. Each player contributes a vital role in the team’s success. I played the most crucial role of them all‚ a bench warmer. However‚ on this fateful night‚ I was anything but. On this night I achieved my three minutes of fame. As I grew up‚ a major part of my life revolved around basketball. Countless hours spent at the gym with my family molded my love for the sport. We spent hours chasing one another up and down the
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City night. Its alive. The kaleidoscope of shimmering lights flicker in the distance as the starry sky sweeps over the city that never sleeps. Hazy clouds envelope the moon so it was in its own realm of perpetual darkness. The wet‚ desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright‚ yellow street lamps. The small‚ green trees on the roadside swayed as the strong breeze hit them. • Above a faded zebra
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nostrils are filled with the smell of gnarled fabric and the acrid scent of roasting rubber. Silence. It drowns me‚ it pulls and tugs and screams a thousand words never to be heard. Nothingness. 3600 seconds earlier. In an infinite sky above the night lay motionless; even though the clouds that had hung low and grey had cleared the stars still refused to shine. Despite the station once being rather ostentatious and resplendent the station now had an air of austerity and neglect; the black paint
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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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The old trees bordering the fields acted like guards‚ muffling the sound of the busy city around them and creating a peaceful haven for the small creatures that lived inside. The only entrance was a narrow path that gradually widened as it ran through the field and up the hill. It was lined at either side with different types of tree; thin birches‚ broad maples and tall sycamores. Their long branches intertwined creating a golden canopy over the path. The only sound was the rustle of the leaves as
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The Trenches – WW1 I’m encapsulated in the unending nightmare of fear. The rain continues to bore on infinitely‚ pounding on the grubby ground and turning it into vast lakes of murky water. The miserable‚ grey clouds covered the sky‚ only letting a few rays of sun slip through. The monotonous sound of raindrops beating on the helmets of the soldiers thundered down like bullets. Everything was miserable‚ grey‚ and lacklustre. The thick layer of mud squelched beneath my feet as I struggled to walk
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giants‚ tower above‚ fingertips brushing the pitch-black sky. The moon‚ a frozen sun‚ creating dancing shadows like a puppeteer. Her shadow‚ tall and slender‚ portrayed before her making her aware of her bad posture. The taste of the coldness of the night along with her overused perfume settle on her tongue. Icy swirls climb to the sky as she lets out a frustrated sigh. The wind pushes her along‚ causing the buildings to creek and groan with her. A shiver runs down her spine as the wind attacks her
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UNFORGETTABLE HUNT When I was a teenager I had an incredible hunt that I will never forget. It was rifle season‚ and I wanted to put my stand in a place that people did not frequent. I looked until I found the perfect spot. It was down an old‚ dead-end‚ dirt road that nobody had driven on in years. The road had grass growing through the dirt and overhanging limbs. At the end of the road was a narrow‚ overgrown trail‚ that followed along the sloping edge of a branch head. At the end of the trail‚
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