'Nother Creative Writing Assignment
[mood| 
drained]
[music| "Paint It Black" - The Rolling Stones]
I have another creative writing assignment due tomorrow. The prompt was to write a paragraph on a place, trying to be as descriptive as possible.
I went to the beach today with four of my friends in honor of MLK's birthday (I had no classes today), so I brought my notebook with me for creative writing and I got inspired by the little boardwalk/pier that was near my spot on the sand.
And so, I give you the completed assignment:
A wave crashes against the stilts - brown pegs worn by sea salt, sand, and the burning rays of the sun, slowly beginning to resemble the driftwood floating listlessly underneath it. The salt has created a light sheen on the wood’s surface, sparking in the mid-afternoon sun. Seagulls flock overhead, their cries shrill with warning as the maelstrom begins to surface; looming over the helpless pier. The normally fluffy swirls of condensed rain that hover over the old deck are now blackened - their peaks molding and flattening into anvils, causing the gulls to fly inland for shelter. The clouds are thick with a current that the pier has become accustomed to and the remaining birds scatter as a brilliant flash lights up the sky, miles away from the pier, as a rumble follows, almost as an afterthought to the electricity spiking the water. The pier cannot run from the approaching storm and its stilts hush as the deluge begins. Drops of water pound against the surface of the pier, the speed and frequency of the gobules creating small, perfect holes in the thick wood; barely discernible, but able to become larger with each passing rainfall. The storm quickly passes (just like every other one) and the little pier is still there, quivering in the aftermath, its stilts groaning as it sways; a motion in sync with the waves that age it.
Thoughts please? :D
xoxox
drained]
[music| "Paint It Black" - The Rolling Stones]
I have another creative writing assignment due tomorrow. The prompt was to write a paragraph on a place, trying to be as descriptive as possible.
I went to the beach today with four of my friends in honor of MLK's birthday (I had no classes today), so I brought my notebook with me for creative writing and I got inspired by the little boardwalk/pier that was near my spot on the sand.
And so, I give you the completed assignment:
A wave crashes against the stilts - brown pegs worn by sea salt, sand, and the burning rays of the sun, slowly beginning to resemble the driftwood floating listlessly underneath it. The salt has created a light sheen on the wood’s surface, sparking in the mid-afternoon sun. Seagulls flock overhead, their cries shrill with warning as the maelstrom begins to surface; looming over the helpless pier. The normally fluffy swirls of condensed rain that hover over the old deck are now blackened - their peaks molding and flattening into anvils, causing the gulls to fly inland for shelter. The clouds are thick with a current that the pier has become accustomed to and the remaining birds scatter as a brilliant flash lights up the sky, miles away from the pier, as a rumble follows, almost as an afterthought to the electricity spiking the water. The pier cannot run from the approaching storm and its stilts hush as the deluge begins. Drops of water pound against the surface of the pier, the speed and frequency of the gobules creating small, perfect holes in the thick wood; barely discernible, but able to become larger with each passing rainfall. The storm quickly passes (just like every other one) and the little pier is still there, quivering in the aftermath, its stilts groaning as it sways; a motion in sync with the waves that age it.
Thoughts please? :D
xoxox