Creative Writing : Essay

“I thought you were by yourself, because I didn’t see your family. So I got nervous.”

Writing a paper on the writing process is pretty hard. The writing process is different from one person to another. You come across questions like, 'What exactly is the writing process?'; and 'Must you follow one persons writing process if yours is different?'; This is where I came across the answer to my questions, write however you wish to write. If one person likes free write first and another person likes to write a draft first, let them do how they please.

“For the baby Eva. You've thought about where you want to go to take her?”

“What’s got you back in town Russell? You plan on getting tanked again?” questioned Earl, the bartender in a gravely voice. He was a sly old man with wizened gray hair and jaded sapphire eyes that held a glint of mischievousness. His gnarled fingers moved with experience as he set the drink on the bar.

Zharor looked defeated. He dropped the glass. And they walked out. Mavis poured herself a glass of scotch and took a hefty swig. Johnny and Yumay walked up to the bar.

Remy Anderson’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as she climbed the stairs to her best friend’s apartment. The trek to the third floor was no easy feat considering that she was toting a duffel bag, a backpack, and a half-eaten pumpkin pie. Arriving at their apartment door, she rang the bell and waited in the dull glow of the gold chandelier.

“Thanks, Eugene. And the coffee is good by the way.” After he had filled up his plate, he took a seat at the table. “Has there been any movement over there at Ford's at all?”

Diane sealed a box with tape and stood when the doorbell rang. "That's cliff. I'll be right back."

“No, she went to play a round of golf with your father. They’ll be back later.”

Three days later, there is a buzz about town; the Lady Fortunato had reported that her lover had gone missing without a trace. Considering his drinking habits, one would not think twice if he were to be gone for one night, but three(with no word from him!) was simply unprecedented.

Sunshine had closed its eyes, and the moonlight cried. Staring into the lights of the city, the view was spectacular. The large floor to ceiling windows fed his heart an unforgettable meal of self-doubt. While his mind held that empty plate of failure, depression sat as an untouched dessert, waiting to feed his once hungry soul. Thoughts of suicide enticed that silver spoon, begging to be picked up. The boxing match continued, with one last question, asking himself, was he ever really good enough? The doorbell chimes interrupted the moment, as it sang throughout the empty, extravagant suite, forcing Abram's tired mind to attend the unexpected call of a surprise guest. Abram lifted himself up from the floor. Opening the door, one of his longtime friends stepped back, waving his hand in front of his face. It was Michael, a wealthy stockbroker by trade. With a clean cut appearance, suit and tie, jet black hair with those glowing brown eyes, he shouted, ‘What the hell man!' His Puerto Rican accent rang in Abrams' ears. Michael continued to speak while taking a few extra steps back, encouraging Abram to shit, shower, and shave. Hesitant, he stepped forward making the way into the suite; with a shocked look, as the once elegant suite now barren. Michael expressed a few unpleasant words, shoving his hands in his front pants pockets

He stopped talking, drank the last of the scotch and shook his head, handing the glass to Ginger. “That night, Helen wanted some ice cream, and then she decided to wait until the next day. I talked her into letting me get it. She agreed to stay in bed until I returned. I drove to the store, bought the ice cream and a bottle of Vodka, placed them in the front seat. I don’t know why I bought it, but I swear I never opened the bottle,” he said, shaking his fist in the air to stress his point. “With Jessica in college, Joe a senior in high school and the love of my life was sick, life was rough.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s downstairs, by the air hockey table, maybe, I don’t know, that could have been someone else, it’s dark down there.” Drake was slurring his words slightly with a drunk smile on his face. He was obviously trying to hand the other beer to Angela who was pretending not to notice as she glanced around the room. A couple of people had attempted to wave her over but she had quickly averted her gaze, instead feigning a fake fascination with the glow stick she had picked up. Mary took the other beer from his hand.

The next day, Aurelio got a knock at his door but before he opened it he looked through the curtains, It was the mayor. As he crept away from the door he began to hear him talk, “I know your home, your car is still here.” Aurelio grunted to himself and flung the door open. “What!” “What do you want, are you going to raise our rent again?!” The mayor mumbled under his breath. “No, I came to apologize for the past few weeks and pay you for what you did yesterday.” Aurelio paused, he saw streaks of tears in the mayor's eyes.

“Salut,” the guests had repeated, clinking glasses and sharing smiles. I felt so happy, but as I looked over to Giovanna, my grin had disappeared. She typically is the life of the party and is extremely joyful, but she was just gloomily staring down at her glass with an ashamed look on her face.