Creative Writing

#2

Some descriptions of places/scenes

Virgin white snow crunches beneath the soles of my dark, freshly polished, leather boots. A sky of cerulean stretched above me, no cloud in sight only the soft caress of winter on my skin.

Crackling the fireworks shot from their holsters. Exploding into an array of vivid colours before my eyes.

A feeling of serenity washed over me as the lake stood still. All that could be heard was the rustling of the fiery leaves surrounding me.

The night sky lit up with a million glowing balls of gas. Stars. Their contrast to the deep indigo of the night sky silhouetted three figures on a heath.

Biting at my skin, the cold was bitter and unforgiving. Creaking vessels were along my eyeline, seagulls squeaking above, scavenging for food in the now barren and bleak harbour.

A halo of light surrounded home. All was calm and quiet as the sun sank into the land, cascading it's warmth everywhere.

Dull greys blended together in the fog, covering the rubble ladened ground like a bed of poverty. In the silence of the deserted street all that could be heard was his footsteps.