Creative Writing: Empire Island

But I only give ya ten minutes. Anymore and I calls the cops. Take the first turnstile, on your right” He pointed to the turnstiles that lead up into the platforms.

A gust of frigid Boston wind surged through the alley as I looked back towards the genie, who had become increasingly weaker after granting my second wish. He was now very old and frail with weak muscles that struggled to hold him upright. His hair was now completely gone, revealing a wrinkled and scarred forehead. Drowsily, he fell to the ground where he sat awaiting my final wish. I pondered for several minutes considering what my third wish would be. Finally, I decided that I would like the ability to turn invisible; this wish would allow me to observe anything happening in the world and be unnoticed. The genie nodded and granted the final wish and then held out a bright glowing stone. Hesitantly, I took it from his fragile hand and felt its warm and smooth surface with three indentations on the side; one for each ability I had wished for. The genie then began to slowly walk away, as he did, his head began to crystallize and dissipate into the wind. His body began to go next. With a quick burst of light, he was gone, his spirit free from all obligations and his earthly confines. With my three wishes granted and the stone in my hand, I decided to begin my journey

“I’m Randy Kim, I was a police officer before everything went to shit. Most of these guys are prior law enforcement. Look we’re only trying to protect our own.”

One would ponder upon the narrator's consciousness that his misery would create an ability to find "joy" in having the sweet creature around again. Surprisingly, the author grows "disgusted and annoyed" by the cat's presence again, which gradually rises into "bitterness of hatred" and he looks upon the cat "with unutterable loathing" (325). The cat's excessive pertinacity of overly affectionate personality towards its master grows a repulsive reflex into the narrator such that he perceives the cat's "loathsome caress," its "odious presence" like a "breath of pestilence" rather than its loving personality and loyalty (325). "Evil thoughts bec[o]me my[his] soul intimates - the darkest and most evil of thoughts," which lead him to commit a brutal murder towards his own wife thus representing the destructive revelation of the plot (i.e., self-destruction in this particular story) (326).

“After defeating the Cyclops Polyphemus, my men grew exhausted. They grew thirsty from rowing under the beating hot sun. Sweat dripped down their heads and the ship’s deck grew moist from the mix of the salty, seawater and sweat. We stopped by on a nearby island.

The grey, steel walls around me were covered in caked blood, vomit, and pus. It had been three years since the plague, and no one else had survived. Other than me, every prisoner, guard, chef, and doctor had died. Spores, bruises, vomiting, bleeding, infection . . . you name it, there wasn’t anything that didn’t happen.

Emerald Bay is located on the right side of Catalina Island. Catalina Island is 46.9 miles from the city of Los Angeles. The climate is warm. Some of the native plants are aleppo pine, brickle bush, and the fire poppy. Some of the native animals are bison, feral cat, and the black buck. There are many things to do at this wonderful camp.

Then they played tag, they played hide and seek, they played hot potato with a real hot potato, then finally they played soccer with the other swag animals oh and they were the Sprinkle Donuts vs Spinning Beans.

A dark and smoky gray night fell over the green grass. An old lamp at the end of an overused power cord of a wooden pole was swinging in the wind. It lit up the surroundings of the construction and printed my moving shadow on the wall behind me. In the half-light of dusk, I walked out of the ruins that minimally protected me from the wrath of the RPF and showed my face to a fire-breathing dragon. I walked into a thick and wet mist that linked up with the wind to whisper ghostly oohs in my ears. I was scared and my legs trembled. Under the dim light, I could not see anything. The smoking of the war clouded the roof of the region and the cold breeze spread an odor of blood and brought the moans of dying people. The dense haze covering my vision

After hearing what Paisley had to say about Mr. Spinks, I just stood there in shock. Spinks may have been annoying with his terrible sense of humor, but it was unsettling thinking about there not being any adult supervision for the time being. Next to me I can see Jacob is happy with the whole ordeal, as he is grinning.

“Conner! You took my phone charger for the third time this week!” Clara yelled lividly.

Silence wedged between them until they walked past a familiar storefront for the third time. It was Kiana, not Zeke, who noticed first. "Ezekiel," she mumbled. "I think we're lost."

The prince laid in bed tossing and turning, his mind spinning as he tried to collect his thoughts from the past few days. Thoughts of the lovely young guard filling his head as he fell into a restless sleep. Not long passed before he was startled awake by a soft sound in the room. He looked up to see Mallory standing a few feet from his bed, wearing loose pajamas and a wicked smile, a candle in her hand. She had picked the lock and snuck into the room when she really shouldn't have even been in this wing of the castle, but Prince Edwin wasn't even surprised. Without a word he rose from his bed with a small smile. As he stood she began to leave the room, and without a second thought he followed her. Together they wandered the long twisting halls of the castle. The

By all means, he probably deserves this in some way or another. Maybe it’s a punishment for all the times he’d gone and overlooked the smaller cases, issues that hadn’t been considered a high priority at the time. It isn’t that he’s greedy—he’s not. Sure, Han has always expected payment for what he does, just like how every other man or woman will, when they stick their neck out for a client and get done what’s needed doing. Already, Han is aware of how little he cares about profit. Doesn’t expect even a dollar from this kid. However, there is this sort of frustration that festers once more, boiling and edging the brim, ready to spill over at random. It isn’t just because of how he’s outdistanced playful intrigue by an inordinate margin

With the rising of the sun came the fog - the often-resented union between the cold Empire Coast Current from the north and the much warmer Dragon Stream from the south. Yet even as the fog came to greet the Royal Engstrom Docks, it found it was already bustling with activity. Well-seasoned workers were already prepping cargo and delegating teams to load the vast cargo on three separate ships, the Prince Turner, the Thane Levant, and the Underwood, The Empire's crest, a brown falcon, adorned each of the three ships. They had been painted with earth-coloured markings, as a ward against sea monsters. The massive ships were snuggled against the quayside amidst a fleet of smaller fishing craft that had returned from night fishing.