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 clouds coated the whole sky and created this cotton candy-like effect. The autumn air was crisp and there was a slight breeze from the north. Even though it was dull looking‚ the sky portrayed a calming tone. I always loved days like this. The wind pushed my long chestnut hair into my face and brushed against the hem of my favorite peacoat. I always noticed this as I walked from the parking lot to the school‚ but lately I noticed something new. Even though it’s a short walk‚ maybe a hundred feet
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Karl English 10H One Day Down‚ One Thousand to Go I gazed up into the bleak morning sky and viewed the wafts of smoke‚ anything to take my mind off what was to come. The sound of the landing craft’s engines revved up indicating we were on our final approach. I gripped my Thompson and carefully glanced over it. The functionality of this gun could mean life or death for me and so it received my dearest attention. Suddenly
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I sat there‚ stunned for an instant‚ listening to my coach announce the swimmers competing in the next race. Uneasiness rushed down my spine the moment my coach pronounced my name. My first race began in less than fifteen hours. The months of training before my competition built my endurance and confidence in swimming. I was prepared to tackle my first competition. When it came time to perform‚ the crowd was silent. I was on a ledge that was three feet above the water. I stared at the crystal blue
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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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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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The violent rattle of the train crawling along the tracks shook me awake. If only it had been a dream. I lifted my head and looked around‚ taking in the sheer horror that marked everyone’s face. The tears‚ the sweat‚ the cries of the children. I closed my eyes‚ took a deep breath‚ and stood up. I could barely move around the cramped car‚ but I looked up to the window. The bleak landscape rushed by‚ just as it had yesterday‚ and all I could think of is where we were going. Somewhere in Poland‚ someone
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The streets were empty again‚ as they had always been. A short breeze blew across the cracked roads of the city‚ and a deafening silence hung in the air. How long had I been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? It was like time had been compressed - or maybe it had expanded. Battered street lights towered around me with their cracked light bulbs. As I continued down the broken path before me‚ rocks and concrete slid and crunched beneath my steps. The torrid heat of the afternoon stung my skin‚ and the
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The startling sounds of my alarm clock causes me to shoot forward from my bed. After my short lived panic I remember why I am waking up before the sun. I fumble through the darkness gathering my hunting gear before snatching up my shoes as I head towards the door. Pausing briefly in the cluttered mudroom‚ I pull my brown boots over my aching feet. I throw the door open and step into the misty fog. I look to my left and see the sun slowing coming over the horizon. I watch as it fades from a dark
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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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