Nov 15, 2009 18:13
Seriously.
Three attempts at writing, this is what I got;
'It was in the late winter that trees, now stark bare and poor in their sleepy state, cracked open knot eyes to stare around the dull scene a mixture of black, brown and white. The autumn winds had ripped their lush green clothing from them and now they stood only graced by the inches of heavy snow piled on their numerous arms.
The day was still for the most part, except when a comrade titled in exhaustion and with a quiet and wet crunch its new white shawl slipped to the covered ground, or maybe when a bird took off and left in its wake a mixture of snow drops and long dead leaves to fall to the ground. The only noises that sounded were that of the few cars trolling along the carriageway or a bird calling out; a cry for help in a blank world.
It wasn't often that it snowed in the wood. The winters would be cold, wet and windy. The trees and bushes well knew that in its sister gathering over the A45 children of all ages trudged through the seven inch falls to sled and toboggan their way down the hills, delighted with the new...'
And
'Naruto was usually a man of words. He was quick to speak.'
Fail.
Any remedies you guys know?
life,
writer's block