Creative Writing: Morgan's Tour Of Naturae

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

I never knew the Smokies were so close to my grandparent’s retirement village. Every summer all the cousins jammed into Grandpa’s Ford for our jaunt up the mountains. But back then the hills had no name. They were recognized only by the pop of our ears and the pink silk trees bowing down to the highway. Since those days I have grown partial to any patch of grass with “National Park” tacked to its title. Today the mimosas still tossed their petals to traffic, and the truck remembered its ever-present perfume of damp golden retriever. But today we were going to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Cade’s Cove, next left,” the road sign read, and two bikes bumped along on the car hitch.

Personally, I feel like the line that separates media from art is a very tricky and obscure one. It’s relatively easy to differentiate between media and multimedia, however when the term art is brought in, classification becomes difficult. Everyone has varied ideas of what art is and what should be considered art but I believe that art causes the viewer to conjure up some form of human idea, emotion or thought.

If he had been human, everything would have been easier. Hal's life would have been so much better; he wouldn't have been forced to fight, or be controlled by the code in his head. He would have grown into a different, maybe better person. But then, they would still be stuck in the compound, still there when the bots had malfunctioned, and they may have not even escaped. Perhaps they would have died an untimely death and not have escaped into the wastes and would be left to rot in the desecrated compound, forgotten, and the only sign they were there were their desecrated skeletons, and even those would be ground away by the sands of time until they eventually became nothing. It was a pity that they would meet that fate regardless; Dirk would

Haley James olive toned hands gripped the black leather steering wheel as she drove down main street away from Karen's cafe and away from the man that she very much wanted to be with. “Asshole.” Haley thought to herself thinking about her once best friend Lucas Scott; the friend that Haley had always gone to when things got tough and it was the same way around for him. They always had some kind of bond that made them each others shoulder including when Jamie died, Haley knew that she could always go to Lucas when she needed someone to talk too, but she didn't know that Lucas blamed her for Jamie's death. Nine years later and Lucas finally says the words that Haley never thought she'd hear him say, but then she never thought he would get this

Jake opened his pocket watch, tipping the crystal face toward the low flames of the campfire. Another hour before daylight and he’d pick up Duvall’s trail. The muscles in his jaw clenched, hate pulling at every part of him. He’d kill Duvall, and he’d do it with Texas’ silent blessing. No judge had pronounced a sentence, but Jake saw the outlaw pull the trigger—watched Harrison die.

After the three of them are done negotiating the natives leave in a hurry, and Mrs. Michaelson instruct the families to follow her into a series of caves. Not all of the families wanted to come with the michaelsons. While the people were in the cave all they heard from outside of the cave was howling. That night turned out to be a full moon, and the families that did not go to the caves were slaughtered by what appeared to be

“The sea and the sky are the same,” uncle always said. At the time he had laughed, but looking out that morning; the cold sea mist clinging to my clothes, I knew he was right.

I dropped you a line while you were at the CTCA Centennial Purina Event so, how did everything go? I hope you and Helen had plenty of time to catch up and that your return home went well.

After they discussed what they needed to do they got everything ready and make their way to the sorceress’s castle. The mission was going to be difficult and the lives of the people of Emerald Forest were at stake. Nikki is the hero and she needs to succeed with this mission or else she could lose her new friends. The group enters the castle through the secret tunnels underground. They aren’t entirely sure in which directions they need to go, but with hope they find the door that leads to the courtyard of the castle. The guards were patrolling, but they were

A child runs inside a small classroom gathering his thoughts wondering what he saw. Bewildered by what he had just seen he had become so frightened he hadn’t realized his hands were shaking. Collecting his thoughts he remembered that he heard a banging on a door someone opened it and a man with patches of flesh missing ran up and bit the student who opened the door. Dumbfound by the whole experience he began barricading the door shut and looking for something to defend himself with. Easily finding a meter stick as he entered a mathematics classroom he began sharpening it scared stiff the entire time. Finally he felt safe although he could hear running and screaming every second coming from outside the doors. Getting up he finally had the strength

It’s not just the games played in front of thousands of hostile fans, but the travel for a mid-major with long bus rides and airport layovers takes its toll too.

Upon taking a flashlight, brand new with full battery life, into the tunnel, I found the fuse box that controls the lights overhead. After opening it, I found all the fuses were in perfect condition and functional, once confirming this fact I proceeded to move the switch into an upwards position to test if power was still coming in. To my surprise, the light came on without hesitation, save for the few that blew out instantly. With the lights now on, I ventured farther into the tunnel to record its length and depth. At around one mile in, the smell of decay and old blood was becoming stronger and the walls were beginning to turn red from what I can confirm to be blood, purely that of a

Walking into Creg’s house is like trudging into an over cluttered garage before spring cleaning. When first stepping through the doorway one can’t help but to gawk at the six inch deep blanket of paper and wrappers covering the floor. Long pants and close-toed shoes are a necessity when visiting Creg, because the paper scratches at ankles and feet as they sink into the viscous litter. Musty smells of unwashed laundry and old boxes burns the visitor’s nostrils. Each step taken is followed by a revolting crunch. If unfortunate enough to inhale through their mouth, an overwhelming taste of dust will choke the visitor. Creg is used to it though, he comes home everyday bounds through the mess, into his living room.

Inside the castle was a big, smelly monster. Beside it was what looked like a pile of smelly laundry. The monster growled and ran at Rebekka. Rebekka stood there and slashed with her sword. The monster screamed in agony. It fell to the floor, where Rebekka then finished it off.