Her heels‚ two sizes too small‚ clack as she walks down the narrow street. The long journey has taken a toll on her feet. Loud cries throb in the mind as her feet beg her to take her shoes off‚ the backs of them rub against her heels. Tall buildings like 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
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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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Eric Moore Essay #1 #365 September 4‚ 2010 My eyes and ears open to the sound of chirping birds outside the dew covered window and my alarm buzzing behind my head. I sense that my room is still messed up from the night before after I threw my gym bag down from practice yesterday night. I stretch my arms and legs as I prepare to get out of my warm bed. I was so sore from practice it felt as if my muscles turned of and I couldn’t move for the whole time. I started to get the feeling back into
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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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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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The world seems hazy‚ like clouds have drifted into my vision and blinded me‚ forcing me to rely on my other senses. I listen‚ open up my ears to the world‚ but hear nothing except the occasional thud of heavy‚ ghost-like footsteps off in the distance. And then it is quiet‚ everything goes quiet‚ like all sound has been voided out of my ears‚ gone forever‚ leaving me trapped inside a prison that I don’t know how to escape. Suddenly‚ I feel the pounding in my head‚ a sharp‚ shooting pain‚ that
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The cold winter snow soared through the night‚ high in the atmosphere‚ blanketing the dead forest of gray bark and howling wolves. Among the trudging pack‚ a blizzard was set and seen upon their sights as they prepared for the worst of the weather. White clouds escaped their panting mouths‚ the creatures headed straight into the calling moans of the night‚ where the dark sky was overtaken by the blank aura the zipping white speckles gave off. When the blizzard had passed‚ the wolves slept in piles
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My buckling legs trudge towards the fireplace to resume my task.The aching in my back resorts to unbearable as my hand reaches for the metal bucket.I squeeze the side of my rib in hopes of lessening the pain but it gets worse. It gets really worse. Unable to bear it any longer‚my knees buckle and I fall on the hardwood floor.My hands grip my sides‚hoping to stop the sudden pain‚but my attempts are futile. My bones crack as I crouch down in agony.But I know I can’t stay on the floor any longer
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green and black alarm clock goes off on the tableside next to my eardrum. I roll over onto my right side and hit the dismiss button turning off the vexatious sound. Slithering out of bed‚ I flick on the lights and slide on the usual black shirt‚ black jeans‚ and Converse; since it is the middle of January I put on a black beanie. I glide down the stairs and I topple over a colossal cardboard box and assuming it has Richard written in illegible letters‚ I know my stepdad has taken residence in my
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It was a cold and windy night in the midst of October last year‚ and I was at my best friends’ house because she was hosting a little sleepover with a few friends. We had just finished watching some scary movies one after the other. She showed some frightening ones and some not so frightening‚ but they would give a hair-raising chill here and there. Around 1 to 2 a.m. all of the girls were starting to fall asleep‚ but my best friend‚ Mia‚ was not sleepy at all. I was dozing off slightly‚ but not
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