Introductions yeahh- Eddie Clark by Rouge2043, literature
Literature
Introductions yeahh- Eddie Clark
The garden was overgrown now.
There was a time when it was perfectly neat and tidy, with a section for vegetables and a section for herbs and a section for roses. When the pots lining the edges bloomed with precision, overflowing beautifully onto the once-clean brick. It was cracked now, with weeds spilling out. It seemed like the area was flooded with plants, drenched in flowers, and soaked with vines.
She liked the garden.
It was a safe haven for her—a small section of the world where everything was in agreement with one another. The bird didn’t bicker with the daisies, the earth didn’t quarrel with the worms. The blue
Unnamed story? - Prologue by Rouge2043, literature
Literature
Unnamed story? - Prologue
An abandoned house stood silently on the side of an abandoned road. The bricks it was built of, a rusty crimson color, were impeccably clean. Its shutters were drawn, and not a single noise came from the interior, where books lay stuffed on bookshelves, caked in dust, and the few green velvet couches were resting places for novels and encyclopedias. The kitchen cabinets were stacked full of biographies,and every counter space was piled high with mysteries and fantasy adventures. And on the old television, there lay another book- a story book- and it had fall open to a page; a new chapter. Across the top, in a Victorian font, was the word Vi
Two winters ago,
We were sitting in class
All peering through
The small room's door's glass
And waiting for something
Or other, I think
But I can't remember
It might have been pink
And the first thing
You ever asked me for
Was a sheet of paper
And nothing more
It flew off from there,
With the first conversation
Being about cats,
And their relations.
And then came up LakeClan,
With all of their names,
With hunting patterns,
And the kit's games
And sixth grade passed by,
With flying colors of red,
Always up in the morning,
And with night, to bed.
With seventh, it seemed,
To slip by quicker.
With more refined cats,
An
Dear Maia-
It started in fifth grade
I'll always remember
And though our memories fade
Our teacher, so slender
And I'll never forget
That one day in class
I made sure that I
Was the one left in last,
And I remember asking
How you drew so well
And I remember you saying
That you'll never tell
I remember in sixth grade
And seventh, in fact
You'd calm us all down
With a hug, just like that
And I never realized
Until one fateful day
How much I appreciated
Your words and your say
And now it's your birthday,
(You're turning fourteen!)
How exciting is this?!
You could be a queen!
With pearls and diamonds
And a silver
yo my name is susan and i am absolute lotr and fob trash and that's it really that's all i am
i like to write a bit but i dont have much time for it anymore because school but i still love to do it and occasionally i doodle and thats pretty much it for me
Hi y'all...!!
For those of you who actually visit my page, I have a few things to say!
Firstly, thanks a bunch and I appreciate you viewing my work it's an honor c:
Secondly, if you left me a message or a note or something I have probably forgotten about it and I'm so sorry but we've been really really really really really busy at school 'cause it's testing season..! (cue the confetti...)
tHIRDLY I'm not gonna be here a lot. I know, I know, I've said it before, but I'm pretty serious about it this time. Like I said, we're about to get into some heavy duty standardized tests now, since it's April, and then we've got Finals in May and after
About ten seconds ago I was having a discussion with a friend (you know who you are, I can't remember your username) about a way some people write. It was particularly about a character telling a story. So I figured I'd put it out there just in case somebody stumbles across it because it really makes me irritated when I see people doing this.
So here are a few tips: THE WORLD MOVES ON AS THE STORYTELLER SPEAKS. Other people interact with them; they interact with other people. The storyteller is not the author. When a character speaks about something that happens to them, they don't give detail and they don't spit the story out in one go. Th