Post by NotAlice on Sept 30, 2010 15:35:45 GMT -5
Exam practice. The best part. Writing to describe.
-Describe a place at two different times of day.
Free. Open space, clean air and freedom. From where I stand, unmoving, in this clearing, a myriad of sights, smells and sounds assault my senses. The light wind rustles through the tree tops stirring the leaves and branches lazily, uncaringly, almost complacently. There’s nothing to fear or be feared about out here. Luscious blue sky and warming sunshine beat down through the space over head, warming and enlightening all it can lay its proverbial hands on. Shadows are few and far between.
Every so often a faint rustle or snap can be heard as some small creature or other passes by on its daily business.
But as the night draws in? That’s when things change.
Trepidation floods my senses as the final, beautiful and mesmerising colors in the sky bleed into darkness. Shadows swarm in around me thick and deep, and that feeling of freedom is gone.
Trapped. Surrounded, closed in, and in no sight of the exit. The darkness seems to loom eerily over me. An odd silence falls over the clearing like the calm before the storm.
Adrenaline flows thick and fast through me as fear surges. Suddenly, I know I’m not alone here anymore.
A low, almost inaudible, growl hovers on the edges of awareness and the putrid smell of wet dog attacks my nostrils. I’m definitely not alone.
Through the darkness a pair of twin orbs can be seen – small, glowing moons that are devoid of any lunarly beauty. As the beast creeps slowly forward, the harsh sounds of snapping twigs are the only sounds to puncture the deadly silence. The snaps, and my own frenzied, fear-fuelled breathing and the clearly palpable drumming of my racing heart.
The beast steps out into a rare streak of moonlight and its features become clear. Thick, matted fur, tinged red with the still-sticky blood of a fresh and recent kill, and fangs that practically sing with threat. Hope becomes a foreign concept to me.
Having noticed the blood, the acrid, coppery scent of it joins the others. I can practically taste the monsters blood-fuelled hunger and my own, also very real and very vivid, fear. The two are not a good mix. Before now, I’d never thought it was possible to taste emotions. I was so very wrong.
With a wicked gleam in its hawk-like orbs of eyes, the wolf lunges. A laughing, tormenting howl, is the last thing I can remember as the darkness swooped in to claim me. Darkness, and the all-too-real knowledge of death watching....waiting....wanting...
(Teacher's 'Too Improve' comments.
- Have a go at using semi-colons and hyphens to change the effects in some of your sentences.
- Try linking your last paragraphs to your opening paragraph for a completely structured short story.)
YOUR THOUGHTS?
-Describe a place at two different times of day.
Free. Open space, clean air and freedom. From where I stand, unmoving, in this clearing, a myriad of sights, smells and sounds assault my senses. The light wind rustles through the tree tops stirring the leaves and branches lazily, uncaringly, almost complacently. There’s nothing to fear or be feared about out here. Luscious blue sky and warming sunshine beat down through the space over head, warming and enlightening all it can lay its proverbial hands on. Shadows are few and far between.
Every so often a faint rustle or snap can be heard as some small creature or other passes by on its daily business.
But as the night draws in? That’s when things change.
Trepidation floods my senses as the final, beautiful and mesmerising colors in the sky bleed into darkness. Shadows swarm in around me thick and deep, and that feeling of freedom is gone.
Trapped. Surrounded, closed in, and in no sight of the exit. The darkness seems to loom eerily over me. An odd silence falls over the clearing like the calm before the storm.
Adrenaline flows thick and fast through me as fear surges. Suddenly, I know I’m not alone here anymore.
A low, almost inaudible, growl hovers on the edges of awareness and the putrid smell of wet dog attacks my nostrils. I’m definitely not alone.
Through the darkness a pair of twin orbs can be seen – small, glowing moons that are devoid of any lunarly beauty. As the beast creeps slowly forward, the harsh sounds of snapping twigs are the only sounds to puncture the deadly silence. The snaps, and my own frenzied, fear-fuelled breathing and the clearly palpable drumming of my racing heart.
The beast steps out into a rare streak of moonlight and its features become clear. Thick, matted fur, tinged red with the still-sticky blood of a fresh and recent kill, and fangs that practically sing with threat. Hope becomes a foreign concept to me.
Having noticed the blood, the acrid, coppery scent of it joins the others. I can practically taste the monsters blood-fuelled hunger and my own, also very real and very vivid, fear. The two are not a good mix. Before now, I’d never thought it was possible to taste emotions. I was so very wrong.
With a wicked gleam in its hawk-like orbs of eyes, the wolf lunges. A laughing, tormenting howl, is the last thing I can remember as the darkness swooped in to claim me. Darkness, and the all-too-real knowledge of death watching....waiting....wanting...
(Teacher's 'Too Improve' comments.
- Have a go at using semi-colons and hyphens to change the effects in some of your sentences.
- Try linking your last paragraphs to your opening paragraph for a completely structured short story.)
YOUR THOUGHTS?
