Creative Writing: Sky Blue Essay

Memories of the night before became a vivid memory in the recesses of his dimly lit mind, underneath the sunlight's intruding yet blissful gaze and the sensation of silk against his bare skin felt like a euphoria, a river of midnight encased his slender figure and with the scrunch of his refined nose and furrowed knit of his thin eyebrows, he rose from his slumber. Delicate fingertips leisurely danced across the silken sheets which lost its assuaging warmth only to discern that he was gone, Padding through the spacious house far too big for two alone to fill, and too much of a burden for one to find comfort in. To see his lover, clad in a suit that managed to take his breath away immediately

He waited until the night’s 11th hour. By now the Princess rested in the highest tower of the castle, locked away from the dangerous world, yet so oblivious to the dangers that which fated the rest of her life. Silently the peasant journeyed outside, where he stopped at the wall of the tower where she lay. He watched her in the darkness from below, lifting his face to her, letting the light rest on his every surface of darkness. The night was cloudless. The winds wailed between the motionless oak trees as its thin branches clawed out, ever so slightly disturbing the leaves with its hostile screeches. Not the thick moss of the trees nor the damp leaves squirming in his toes could distract the peasant from so enticing a scent. All that encircled him was the sweetness of lavender and rosewood, filling his entire being as he sunk into the grass, like sand washed over by the water, with every breeze passing

In identifying a concept for this film, the topic of ‘Girl Meets Boy’ was interpreted as a point of discovery or realization of another existence. For this reason, it was decided that the concept of ‘SHe’ essentially circle around the idea of ‘exploring the effects that the transgender transition process has on an individual and their family’. This means that our storyline will revolve around a person going through these experiences and facing the conflict that this brings. This relates to

The surroundings of this city’s at night only continue to push the narrator deeper into his depressive state. In the poem the narrator states, “I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane.”

With the help of the poor lighting from the candle, she stares at the stubborn marks

It was midnight and no light was burning in the room. Through the window there fell the radiance of the city, lying like a pale gleam upon the face of the girl who sat, leaning back against the wall, without moving, with closed eyelids, her hands in her lap.

“The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind rushed up the staircase, and a loud long wail of disappointment and misery gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The street light flickering opposite shone on a quiet deserted road.”

Millicent observed as her mother got up from the bed and gave her a kiss on the forehead, pushing a lock of sweaty hair behind the ear, turned and she walked away, without another sound. Millicent got out of bed and walked to her window that looked out at the street of the neighborhood, she thought it was probably a little after midnight, since the neighboring lights were off, expect for the light post almost directly outside her house, she looked down

Only the most determined rays pierced the curtains of darkness that enveloped the earth. There was still time for Andrew to collect his thoughts in preparation for the day to come. Outside lay the world he had always known. In the early hours of the morning, tranquility occupied the outside world, a reminder of a once elegant and less complicated mental landscape. Remnants of his childhood were scattered and fragmented: the local school, park and playground – simple constructions that offered the framework for memories of his younger self. Reminders of a person that is and isn’t him. All the segments of time he wished he could relive, even if just for a moment. Symbols of stability in a rapidly evolving and chronologically gyrating

In the gloomy nights of Vale, everything was silent. The shattered and irregular moon was high in the air and looked over the vast city, and was currently observing over a new soul who entered its brilliant gaze.

At Sulphur High School, copious students trample through the halls day after day, but one student captures my attention. In between classes, I pass her every day. People address her as Allie, but her ID reads Allison Hill. From watching her for a while, I perceive Allie as a quiet, smart, and independent girl.

The humid, windless night fails to distract me; instead, it persuades my heart to find tranquility and serenity with nature. Glancing back at my dimly lighted, compact camping tent, I vaguely distinguish the figure of my sleeping sister. Her loud snores and dissatisfied sighs only serve to remind me what I left behind. Having lived in St. Louis all my life, I had grown used to the heart-warming, whitish glow of street lamps outside my windows, their light shadowing the shape of my car. Yet, this was blackness that I couldn't recalled seeing before. One that was absolute, as if a clumsy student spilled ink all over the desk. When I tilted my head skyward, I beheld the canopy of dazzling stars as they emerged amongst the ocean of blackness. Some were dull, merely flickering into existence every now and then, but still enough shimmering stars to illuminate the dark night. Upon further examination, like a biologist studying under her microscope, through my miniature telescope I found the key to another world- a world of beauty, love,

The loneliness surrounded Clara. Her thoughts consumed her. The sound of the dripping water from the ground above is all she could hear. Around the corner she saw the bright yellow candle light from a Hurrier headed straight towards her, ready to push the cart full of coal through the door. The glistening light became brighter and brighter as she walked towards Clara, her mind subconsciously drifted to a much happier time.

Her eyes, feeling like they were being used for the first time in a decade, seared as they tried to distinguish her surroundings: A white, padded cell, along with a door in front; a flickering light above, buzzing irregularly.

Violet had the most dazzling feathers Arthur had ever seen. To the untrained eye, one would say Violet's feathers were purple. However Arthur knew better. Violet's feathers were the most vivid tyrian with speckles of palatinate. Violet had been talking to another bird when Arthur first heard her name.