Descriptive Writing On The Hidden City

The day was dark. I could feel a storm approaching. The gentle sunlight glistening through the clouds, now covered by a heavy mist. Drop. Drop. Drop. The coldness of the water tinged my face. And the earth shook, as a large boom erupted from the sky followed by a light crackle. By now, I was soaked, like that night. I continued walking through the deserted streets when a large flash erupted from the sky. Oh, great lightning, today was getting better and better. A woman and her young child was running towards their car to seek shelter. The walk was a long and dreadful one, I found myself looking at the place I left 15 years ago. The house was still dark and foreboding as ever, the shutters hanging off its hinges and the roof in a state of disrepair.

Soon the moonlight illuminated the scenery. As I was standing on the balcony admiring the scenery something finally went wrong, a huge black cloud covered the moon. I soon heard the thunder. It seemed to be nothing to worry about, so I didn’t acknowledge it. A few hours later the thunder grew louder and I could see the flashes of lightning headed our way. I went inside to inform my parents of the weather, but they didn’t seem to worry about it much until the cloud was almost over the lodge. My family and I left the reception alone while everyone else stayed in cover; they were the smart ones I thought.

Waves crashed into the small hull, her tiny voice being drowned out by the sound of it. Between the lighting flashes, she sees the two adults race along the boat, securing belongings that had come loose. Her brother sits near her, frightened and crying, yet somehow comforting as her tiny hands cling to his fur. The rain whipped around them, blown about by fierce winds, and she covered her head to protect against the stinging droplets. Another crack echoed in her ears, but this one was not accompanied by thunder. Water rushed over her feet as the hull bent into strange new shapes around her. Another crash of lightning revealed nothing but the now illuminated night sky, roiling with the dark clouds of the storm. Then the cold overwhelmed her, the current dragging her away from her sibling and under the water. Spinning recklessly, she flailed in the depths until the darkness set in, mercifully quieting

The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

Evening had arrived and everything had been packed away ready for its next use. It had also brought the grim warning of a storm. The sky was brimming with a dark shade of grey and black, making the mood eerily mysterious. A storm was brewing; it was about to blow, just like a volcano about to erupt. Then, “Boom!”. A lightning strike crackled across the sky, one after another. After three lightning strikes a downpour of rain fell from the sky.

From my room,I had smelt and sensed that rain was about to  arrive and had scurried outside before the drops commenced.Sweet anticipation formed inside as I awaited the blissful raindrops to pelt me on my face and body.The wind rose higher and grew frighteningly violent,swirling throwing rocks and gravel into the air.The thin

“Mama, cover doors and windows. Everyone go to the bedroom, and put your masks on,” I directed, calmly. When I got to the bedroom, everyone was huddled around each other, with a white cloth on their face. Suddenly, the room became dark. You could hear the heavy breathing of everyone in the room, yet you couldn’t see anyone. The storm felt like it lasted for days, but only really lasted a few minutes. When I got back to the dining room table, I saw a letter on the table from the bank.

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

Underneath her bare feet she could feel the coarse hail dig into her skin. She pushed through the pain and heard a branch snap behind her. Her hair whipped towards the sound and was met with piercing white eyes in the darkness. The slow, deep, heavy breathing began to chuckle and

"What! You got us trapped on the homeworld of the weeping angels for a day!"

She slowly lifted her vision from the ground up towards the view of the forest. As she moved her head from side to side she looked in wonder at her surroundings. All she could see expanding right in front of her eyes was a beautiful crystal clear water hole with waterfalls rushing in from either side. Behind this amazing waterhole towards the right there was yet another exit out of the forest, although this one seemed different … it lead towards her street that she last remembered living on. Annabel seemed very relieved to see this exit but there was something that seemed to stop her walking out into her freedom. The thought of leaving the forest meant she would say goodbye to her parents for good. Annabel couldn’t bear to do this; she couldn’t live with herself if she knew there was something else she could do that might reunite her with her

For a moment, she remained still, and corpse-like, but then color shot back into her face. Her eyes shot open, and she coughed loudly, a stream of blood and water dribbling down her chin. She looked about weakly, her eyes racing from Britta to Vig, and then Gall. In a tremulous voice, she asked, “Where am I?”

Her heart was pounding, her head was racing. She looked around; where was she? Then she remembered the super bright light and the darkness, and she tried to remember if she knew where she was.

Italo Calvino’s extraordinary story, Invisible Cities is a literary accomplishment. Invisible Cities contains of an impressive display of discussions between Marco Polo, the legendary Venetian explorer, and Kublai Khan, the famous Conqueror. The two settled in Kublai Khan’s garden and Marco Polo details, or for all one knows invents, depictions of several wonderful cities. Considering these cities are not ever actually seen, yet only recounted, they are unnoticeable to the emperor. In consideration of the fact that they might not actually exist, they may be truly obscure to all but the reader, who is captivated by the dazzling, foreboding input of Marco Polo. “If I tell you that the city toward which my journey tends is discontinuous in space and time now scattered, now more condensed, you must not believe the search for it can stop. Perhaps while we speak, it is rising, scattered, within the confines of your empire…” (164). The main topic is Marco Polo and the cities he has traveled, or one city in several structures. These expeditions involve cities of memory, trading cities, cities of desire, thin cities, continuous cities and of the sky. The outcome is an intensely intriguing achievement of literature that urges surpassing the borders of the fictional book. Between these enlightening depictions of unfamiliar settings, Calvino allows his readers to indulge in the discussion between two men, one in the middle of his career, the other in

A chilled breeze caused my hair to stand up on end, so I peek over my shoulder to see the window in my bedroom door open. The blue, polka-dotted whipped around violently but I couldn 't hear the sounds of a strong wind. Huh, could have sworn I 'd closed that. . . I spring to my feet and shiver as I step across the cold floor toward my room. On my tip-toes, I pull the screen down to shut it and take a minute to stare out the window. The moon cast a dim light over the small town, illuminating only the fronts of houses and the tip of trees, abandoning all else to darkness. A light fog danced in the distance and I smiled thinking how perfect it looked on Halloween 's night. I looked down from the top floor one last time then tugged the curtains shut.