Extraterrestrial skies

It was a mysterious, windy, dark night. Annabel, a short young girl with jet black hair, eyelashes that reached the sky and eyes like a puppy dog, had just awoken on the floor of a cold dark forest. As she took in her surroundings and wondered how she had got there, a sudden pain appeared in her head and she had a brief flashback of painful memories of the car crash that she and her parents had just been involved in, a horrific accident; she lay there as tears slowly welled up in her eyes and rolled

There was a sadness that filled the air all around me and no matter where I went it followed me like a shadow. There was no escaping the dark gloom that I could see in the eyes all around me. This sadness was like nothing I had ever seen or felt in my whole 13 years of existence, and it wasn’t in the air that I breathed when I first woke up this morning in my aunts house in my small hometown in Tama, Iowa. When I woke up in the morning I got out of the comfy white comforter of the guest bedroom

here?" asks the explorer. "I don't know," I mumble. "What made you stay here?" "It was so nice here, but then... the rains came, and... it..." He wraps his arms around me as I break down into merciless tears. The wind picks arrives in gusts. The sky darkens. "I'll get you out of here," he shouts over the storm. He rises, nearly toppling with the winds, and offers me his hand. I stutter, "I don't know about this, I--" "Trust me!" An impasse. I reach up, my small hand brushing his palm. He

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

skin. The sky is cloudy and the breeze starts to pick up. The seawater starts to tingle on my skin, however the waves start to become quieter than before. The white soft sand starts to stick to me, as I lay down in the warm sun. The faint smell of barbecuing meat, from the nearby shops, starts to fade. The taste of cold ice cream lingers in my mouth, as I sit up in the shade. The warm sun becomes a golden glowing semi-circle over the sea, however the stars to start to glow in the purple sky. As soon

It was a dark, windy day. Ralph Marx, the talented, sophisticated young man was a Menshevik in Russia. Moscow, to be exact. Ralph was on a mission. His mission was simple, yet dangerous. He was ordered by the C.I.A. to exterminate the best Lacrosse player in the universe; Cinnamon Cider. Ralph was staying in a hotel on the east side of Moscow. It was not a very run down motel, but it also was not fancy. It was best that he was not staying in a nice, five star hotel, simply because that would just

IT WAS ABOUT ELEVEN O’CLOCK in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. I was wearing my powder-blue suit, with dark blue shirt, tie and display handkerchief, black brogues, black wool socks with dark blue clocks on them. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four million dollars. The main hallway of the Sternwood

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! My phone alarm went of at 6:00 that morning, it was the middle of February and it was forecasted to snow the whole day. We had already gotten the day off because of the inclement weather before then. Back to the day before, I was staying at my cousin’s house because my mom had to have her eye surgery. It had already sleeted a couple days before and we didn't even get out then. We were watching the news and drinking hot cocoa and coffee. On the night before we got out for the snow

to show the height of the falls instead the horizontal format. Therefore, many artists adopt this kind of art to create the same view and that makes him very special artist. The composition is simply made of rocks, water, trees, men, and the blue sky. The picture is asymmetrical, it made from enough

When two aeroplanes were forced down over the Isle on two consecutive days the events drew large crowds. The first aeroplane landed at Low Melwood Farm at 4 p.m. with the pilot unable to fly through a heavy fog that clung to the land either side of the River Trent. So great was the crowd that watched its departure, those present seized the opportunity to organise a collection for the Red Cross Fund which raised £2. The following day another plane alighted at Sandtoft when the fog returned. It stayed