Creative Writing: Gaby Freiberg

“Creative Writing” by Etgar Keret, shows the struggles of the couple grieving a miscarriage, though their stories that they wrote in creative writing class. Maya the wife write three different stories, the first one showing how a loss of an unborn child can make someone feel like they have died, or lost a part of themselves. The second is about how a women a may go through a period where she feels detached from her husband. The third is about the journey of accepting a miscarriage and ready try again. Aviad’s story is about continuously adapting to change and always remembering where you came from.

Then we went to an indoor ride I put my stuff down and got on, it was a lot of fun!

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

We laughed as we waited in line. Before i knew it we were at the front of the line. We handed the old man wearing a deep frown our tickets. We ran up the few steps hastily. I buckled myself in and waited excitedly. As the time went on more people started to pile in on the ride. After a minute the guy went to check and see if everyone was buckled in correctly after he completed his task he got of and started the ride. It went slow and steady at first, but it started to gained speed and height. The higher we got the lower my stomach dropped. I held my hands up and felt the my hair dance in the cool wind. After the ride was over he and I rode more rides than we could

When I awoke my mother informed me that we were almost there and after a few minutes we had arrived in the parking lot. We exited the car and unloaded the contents of the trunk into the provided red cart before treading toward the dorm building. As we passed through the front doors we signed in to my room at the front desk before taking the elevator to the third floor of the

Going to the main items of this house. The door has an eye so that you will always know who is at the door just in case you don’t feel like consuming the souls of children today. There is an absolutely horrific home security in the heart. When someone manages to get into your house the heart will start to beat very rapidly. In the basement is where the red death lives you can let him out every night to capture the souls of the innocent. Don’t worry he will come back every morning with his haul. The dismembered body sits in the middle of the living room to give off a smell that only the dead can stand. If you have trouble remembering to let the red death out don’t fret Lenore won’t let you forget about anything. These are things that should

We went thru a maze of hall ways and finally we got to the office

We moved forward in line and we were going to be the next ones on the ride. It seemed like forever but finally it was our turn to get in the roller coaster cars, I was so happy and scared at the same time because every ride you could hear people screaming. We got in and once everybody was strapped in safely the ride would start, suddenly the roller coaster cars jolted forward. The cars immediately started to roll up the giant snowy mountain towards the top. Finally we made it to the top of the very tall and steep mountain we went speeding down the side of the mountain and up another part of a mountain to the top really fast. I was screaming so much and so was everybody else on the ride with us and that wasn’t even the scariest part.

Diana Prescott had a bad history of being with the wrong man. And here she was again. Desperate to make friends in Gull Harbor, she’d agreed to come to the Firemen’s Ball with Cole Campbell, who was crazy about Kate Kennedy. Sarah and Chili, her new book group buddies, had been so persuasive. “Pobrecita, Kate needs to realize how much she loves Cole, no?” Chili had pleaded. “They see each other at the dance and boom! They will know.”

It was 9:45 p.m, I had just finished my homework.I got my pajamas on,got in bed and went to sleep.Next thing I know I was it my room awake, I grabbed my phone to see what time it was,but it wouldn’t turn on,So I assumed it was dead.I got out of bed to look at the kitchen clock since my phone was dead,but as soon as I got out of bed and started to fall.I looked up and realized that there was no floor.I thought I was going to plummet to my death at first,when out of nowhere I was riding on top of a magical Alicorn,Unicorn and pegasus.

After a minute I loosely tied my corset back up and got my (insert dress) on and walked down the marble

Writing is a skill that everyone develops differently. Writers have developed their own ways to write and to communicate to the readers their ideas, thoughts or stories, these ways are not the same by all the authors. For example, Imagination is something unique to each person, and it gives the special magic for each written. Some writers can describe their style and inspiration different from the others. As these four writers which talent involve more and more people every day: Stephen King, Wally Lamb, Karen Thompson and Marcus Zusak. Each of these persons with different ways of expression and inspiration, but with the same vocation. Initially, Stephen King, who thinks that to star writhing its necessary, just one idea

Somehow, we both were waiting in a surprisingly boiled down line filled with only about half a dozen of people, waiting for the ride their turn patiently. My ears had welcomed the screams of people on the roller coaster and fear had built up inside me. Before I knew it, the previous ride was over, and adults had stepped off. My friend and I had hopped into the fourth row. We strapped up and I grabbed

When the weather turned, no one spoke to Anne about anything other than the weather; the same conversation, all day, every day until the sun returned. Glancing occasionally through the bakery window she saw the rain fall like strings of mercury, exploding into black droplets onto the pavement outside. Little drops of gloom, drops of gloom that keep us alive, that others in more remote corners of the globe tempt with elaborate dance. Anne had seen them on the Discovery channel pounding their leathered feet on the scorched, cracked earth and shaking their rain sticks at the sun and sky. With no breeze to carry the weight of a prayer their cries fall, shattered, parched and trampled underfoot. If the rain did show up the locals danced

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re coming Ashlyn.” Kaelyn and I both said as we started moseying towards the door. Everyone else was already up there and waiting to start.