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Post Info TOPIC: Creative Writing, What a class!


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Creative Writing, What a class!


The footsteps behind her slowly grew louder, picking up the pace as she did and seeming to keep the same distance. Biting her lip, Rose moved quicker, hoping to escape the person following her. They had been behind her for a block now and she feared they would follow her all the way home. She gasped as they footsteps picked up pace, becoming a dead out run. She began to run as well, her heart beginning to race. She focused only on her steps, but in the back of her mind the footsteps of her stalker echoed loudly. She felt as though everything was in slow motion. Her heart raced and her breathing quickened to another, faster pant. Dont stop, dont look back, just keep running, played repetitively in her mind as she saw her street ahead of her. She just had to make it to the corner and turn. Then it was a straight run to her house.Sweat creased her brow with determination but just as her foot touched the corner and she began to turn, she felt the strong arms of her stalker around her body, one hand flying up to block the scream that left her lips. Not only were his hands firm but his strength was great. In an instant her stalker became her captor and the struggle began. Her feet stomped and her hands flew up to his arms. She struggled with all her strength, her nails scoring the flesh of his arm before digging into it. He flinched up his hold never loosened around her. She could feel the blood pooling around her fingertips and she winced with disgust. Her feet began to kick wildly as she found him trying to move her. She wanted to try and scream again, but found that her throat was dry and she couldnt manage a simply moan of pain as he released her mouth to grip the base of her hair. Feeling the ground beneath her disappear, she managed a glance at her captor. His features were strong and determined while his eyes seemed mysterious in the moons soft light. If the time had been different and the circumstances altered, Rose would have found him extremely attractive. Before she could see any more, she felt the pain at the back of her head, and darkness overtook her body as she went limp in his arms.

-- Edited by shy_child on Tuesday 19th of May 2009 08:25:59 PM

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The large, golden orb slowly fell towards the horizon, lighting the sky with vibrant shades of yellow. The water glistened in the pure light, while it rippled against the gentle shore. The soft sand, cool to the touch, is welcoming and safe. Each wave joined the next to create the soothing sounds of water splashing against the tide, becoming a welcoming lullaby to all who are grazed with the harmony. The night breeze touched the air, causing the leaves of a neighboring palm tree to quiver with delight. The intoxicating smells of sea water becoming sane and pure air mix with the tropical aroma of fresh fruit and plants. The golden light kissed the blue sky; the white clouds form and almost heavenly feel to the radiant sky. Each flower looks magical in the fading light, their colors beginning to glow under the darkening sky. The horizon looking as though it is close enough to touch and the night birds songs becomes another harmony to the waters lullaby. The song seems to carry far across the shore, while each tide pulls you farther from reality. The rustle of ferns and leaves seem to amplify the peace within the small world all its own. The dreams of lovers and midnight walks, couples holding each other within the sand, mingle with memories all your own as the sand touches your body in a cool embrace. Each grain of sand touches you, caresses your skin and your lovers. Families, who have played in the sand and lover who have lain in the bed of grain, have seen the majesty of each sun set and sun rise. The statement, Stay gold, from Ponyboys view, featured in The Outsiders, comes to mind.

With each blink of the eye, the scene changes the mellow mood. The clouds touch each inch of the sky in slow movements. The sun becomes so bright, so pure. The sky seems vast and immeasurably. It is empty of life, almost as if a bird of a plane would tarnish its beauty. The rich blue mingles with the sun, touching it, loving it. Its warm light a gentle caress against the skin. The clouds move against, their soft white fluff cradling the suns bottom as if to keep it from falling into the darkness of the water.

The water is cold, though its dark color is welcoming. Its slow waves seem to turn from one into the other in a repetitive motion. The waters depth beginning to lure in the curious mind to see what it holds. The creatures beneath the surface, hidden and secretive keep their distance with the lulling rhythm of the waves seeking refuge on the shore. Just for a moment before receding back to where it belongs.Its pure feel of the soft water, reflects the suns radiance as its cool touch embraces all who enter its body in a welcoming manner. The distinct, almost calming smell seems to radiate throughout the shore. Although its touch is cold, its hold is gentle.

As the water joins the shore, it takes with it a hand-full of sand. Each grain joins together, creating a bed to all who need rest. Its touch is warmed by the sun, though it slowly cools as the sun begins to set. Its lush softness welcomes those it meets as it cradles the bodies of lovers and the feet of those that do not wish to stay. The small grains, when separated, fall through cracks between your fingers and feel harsh to smooth skin. Together they create a home for the tired body, enclosing the skin in a warm, soft net of tender kindness and loving caresses. The sand becomes an intimate friend to all that allow it in it. It creates a bed of gently hugs and deep kiss that move the soul.

The sand not only becomes a home to those that move, but also to those that do not. The plants within the sands hold provide the shade to each hot day and the pure air needed for us to continue to see this sight. Each plant provides the nectar of life to the animals that become the accompany part to the waters lullaby. Their bright, vibrant colors reflect the suns power and give beauty to the scene before us. The plants are caressed with the nights breath while the cool breeze carries the comforting smells of the ocean and sand. The nights breath seems calm to those it touches and creates the illusion that the world is as calm as it really seems

The night birds call, the monkeys laughs, in the distance a dolphin kisses the sky. The animals of this place claim this peaceful land as their own. Their sounds become music and their life gives us hope. Hope for a future of clean life and peace to all.

Mixed into one place, this sight can calm any temper and refresh every soul. Through life and death, this beach becomes a joint reflection of gods gift to man. A snap shot that will never change and a memory that is forever unchanging. The open air, the distinct smells only the ocean can reveal. Everything placed in just the right spot for everyone and anyone to look upon. It does not cost money, or special adventures. Walk through the sand once and you will understand that the simple aspect of this scene is what makes it so appealing. Life becomes a dilemma of what is right and what is wrong but here, nothing is right or wrong. Everything is just peaceful and calm. Here, the mind, body, and soul live as one within this place. This place provides peace to those that need it. Nothing can change this scene for it is forever in my pocket. Only a picture can capture something that will never change. Though the picture will fade with time, the memories left within the scene will never be forgotten to those that understand; less is more.



-- Edited by shy_child on Tuesday 19th of May 2009 08:45:52 PM

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Here I lay, a holy piece of cloth and metal, discarded as if I were an invaluable object. Oh the days I have seen, the conversations Ive head at brunch and tea. Although I have seen many a gloomy sky and puddles, here I lie defeated and alone. I have seen wars between best friends, and motivational speakers from every language. Ive watched affairs of the country and countries abroad, although Im only an umbrella.

The day of my first great adventure was a day Ill never forget. It was June 5, 1787. I was only a week old and bound for my first store, moving through the rings of train travel. First a stop at Beijing, than on to Hong Kong and finally I have a first class ticket to London. Hanging on a wooden peg, my dark black cloth caught my masters eye. Smiling he picked me up with strong hands. He was young then, only in his early twenties. It was raining outside and his blond hair was damp with fresh rainwater. After placing a few pounds on the counter we were off, opening my wide mouth to keep him dry. From that day on, my master and I who I would later learn was named Anthony-, would only grow closer.

As Anthony walked toward his college it seemed that, unlike everyone else around us, he was at ease with the rain. He didnt run to the building like his colleagues, or jump the puddles to keep from getting his shoes wet. His grip on my hand seemed sturdy but not rough. Others that passed us with umbrellas like me seemed to be holding onto them with all their might. As if they feared the rain would wash them away.

Once inside the large building, Anthony folded me neatly before leaning me against his chair. Looking at the old professor I sigh. This looked to be a boring class that I didnt exactly want to attend. Looking toward the small amount of students I find there is only five or so. Looking back to the professor again, to my disbelief, he was standing at the board. He looked to frail of a man to even move on his own. On the chalkboard in perfect script he wrote but one word;

Life

From that simple word, conversations began. First about liberty and the new land, formed just four years earlier, that was now named America, the land of the free, and the life of new hope. We spoke of Ben Franklin and his spectacles, of Hanco.ck and his script. Each passing moment brought more to each new light. The professor grinned, having done what he wanted; he made us think. At the end of the intriguing session Anthony stood, taking me by the hand before carefully holding my neck. He could not choke me for I do not breath, but even so his grasp was not firm. Walking to the professor he smiled, an almost god like smile. "Thank you," he spoke his voice clear and rich with English blood.

The old man laughed his breathing hoarse and almost pathetic as he coughed. "Anytime for a fellow lover of life and question Anthony!" The old man gave my master a happy smile, his eyes gleaming. His hair was thinning and his skin sagging slightly from old age. His glasses were perched atop his nose while he looked over them at Anthony. You have a good head on your shoulders Anthony Winchester. Never forget that. The old man smiled. Anthony did as well, nodding gently before waving goodbye. From that moment I knew, that my master was bound for great things.
Soon we were on our way, our destination unknown to me at the time. Opening my mouth once more I looked out at the dreary scene of the London street. Little did I know that, that would be the last time Anthony walked that lonely London street. As we came upon a small house tucked between two other houses that looked identical to ours. I looked upon my new home, admiring the smoke that rose from the many chimneys down the street. Heated by a wood-burning fireplace at the time, the house was warm and inviting. Sighing he shook the excess water from my body, always gentle as he did. Placing me next to the door to let me dry, he left silently.

As I lay there, I watch him run around the small house. Grabbing books, paper, compass, quills, ink, what looked to be a map and even a bible. It was fun to watch him, his brow furrowed in concentration. From where I sat I could watch him in his small study, researching, measuring, and sighing, as he mapped out what looked to be directions to some important place. As I watched him there was a knock on the door, this only roused Anthony long enough to look up for a short moment. Come in Jonathan! He called loudly. Within moments the door opened, bringing with it the smell of rain and the damp air from outside. Walking in, a tall man about the same height and age as Anthony closed the door before shedding of his coat, hat, and umbrella. Placing the umbrella at my side I noted the warm look within his eyes and the spectacles upon his nose. Moving into the study the man seemed to smile as he walked.

"Anthony! My old friend! How have you been? I have not talked to you in such a great while. "The mans voice boomed with English blood and he seemed at the same ease as Anthony. Standing Anthony smiled once more, moving to Jonathan.
"It has been to long John! How was America? I see that the rumors were true. You did get Benjamins spectacles."

"Yes, he is a good friend of mine now. We go way back. Hes a nice man that Ben. What about you? How has the world been treating you Anthony? I hear that you are going to try and find her!" Anthony only nodded as he returned to his chair at the desk.

"Ive mapped out every place she had mailed me from. First in Germany, than the Middle East and now Egypt! Where is she going Jon? I need to know!" Sighing Anthony rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger, slowly, meticulously, as if it really did help with what he was feeling. "She told me before she left that she needed to find her father, but it has been three and a half years Jon! What if something has happened? Her father was poor when he left and is going to be even more poor now. He has no education, no skill and no profession. I fear that something has happened to her." Shaking his head, his deep blue eyes seem more than hurt, but heartbroken. I didnt know who this woman was but I hoped he could find her. Jon sighed, sitting in an overly stuffed chair as he looked as though he was in thought.

"I dont know Anthony. I wish you the best on your trip to Egypt and hope that maybe you can find her. I know many people there, Ill send word that you are on your way and you shall have a place to stay and resources in which to look." Jon said before leaning back in the large chair. "Its just not right, leaving like that without you of all people!" Shaking his head he looked to Anthony, his eyes caring as he watched him work.

They sat in silence a long time, Anthony working away at his map while Jon thought deeply, or so it looked. Every once and a while the two would look at each other, as if they knew what the other was thinking. It seemed to bring my master courage and strength when Jon looked at him. Finally, Jon took his leave and Anthony bid him goodnight.

Anthony worked all through the night, only to pack his bags in the morning. Once he had packed what he thought he needed he grabbed me, locked his door and we were off to the train station once more. As we traveled Anthony continued to work on his map, his eyes concentrating on every movement of the compass. Sighing half way through the trip he placed away the map and just watched the scenery.
When we finally made it to our destination he picked me up along with his luggage. The sun was bright; its rays hot as embers when he opened me. His pale complexion not used to the raw intensity here, but where was here? There was sand everywhere, camels at each turn of the head. People wore towels on their heads; though I would later learn they were called turbans. Anthony walked with me, asking about this and that. Personally I was more interested in the way the sun fell upon the sand.

After finding our new home Anthony began to unpack. Pulling out his clothes and what not, he leaned me against the stone wall once more as he changed into more appropriate clothes. Sitting down on the small cot he sighed. "This is going to be a long journey. I hope I can find her." He muttered to himself, running a shaky hand through sweat-dampened hair. For his sake, I hoped he found her as well.
Night fell quickly there and unlike London there were no birds to sing beautiful melodies while you slept, or dogs barking, or even cats fighting. It was entire silence, except for the wind that echoed through the sand as it danced and played with each grain of the soft powder. I found myself unnerved by the silence, my senses heightened by what I could not hear. Anthony too did not sleep well. He tossed and turned, throwing off the thick blanket in the night for it was to hot.
Morning came as a relief to us.

Anthony rose early in the morning, his hair messed from sleep and his features slightly dull. As he cleaned and dressed his dull features brightened. Stepping out of the small house he grabbed me. Opening my mouth once more I shaded him from the blazing sun that threatened to burn all in its path. We soon reached a heard of camels along with men. Smiling Anthony said his greetings and climbed onto a laying camel. Holding me tightly he signaled for the beast to rise. For what seemed like an eternity we rode in the hot sun, my cloth growing warm as I shielded Anthony. Many of the men were jealous of me, saying that they should have brought their umbrellas as well. I smile within, knowing that Anthony was lucky to have me, and that I was envied. As we rode the wind picked up once more, dancing across us in the suffocating heat. Hearing Anthonys gasp, I felt his grasp falter as I was picked up by the wind. Feeling the wind pulling me from my master I prayed that the wind would stop and I would be brought back to him, but I wasnt.

I was carried a long ways from my master and found myself alone within the desert. Anthony never came for me, and I lay in the hot sand for a long time. My mouth open and half of my arm covered with burning sand. I never found out if Anthony found the woman he was looking for, but I hoped with all my might that he had. I thought I would never be found, until the day I heard voices and felt myself pulled from the sand. The year was 1876, and the voices I heard were those of archeologist looking for bones within the sand. As they picked me up they smiled. With that, my second great adventure was about to begin, but that is another story.


-- Edited by shy_child on Tuesday 19th of May 2009 08:50:37 PM

__________________

 

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Name Copyright of Shy_child
Art Copyright of The Exile

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Art. It's everywhere.

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