+11 votes
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in Fiction by (415k points)

(all my me) 

 

It was a golden swan that hummed above the caramel setting and sun drips of honey dew, bright green leaves that shuttered at the swan’s orange feet that stumbled across the heated rocks, squawking and squealing at the little white fluff at the end of the now vastly moving  bank. Water came over the swan’s toes as she hovered over to her little small feathered baby. The mother and son both squeaked and cried, now the mother grabbed the baby as red fish that’s gales sparkled in the now setting sun circled the little baby. As the swan drove her grime nail in the baby, his beak was shut as she put him in a warm nest with white feathers and blue orbs with dots over it. He cuddled them, now safe in the warm nest as his mother put her neck down, rubbing against him as he flapped his little wings. Her cries now laughter, almost as if she said, “You are home now!” 

It was as if the blue day that shuttered anyone who talked happily made it any better, the song of the east, the bread falling swiftly on the platter as it made a drooping noise as it mixed with the yolk. “Ye people don’t know how to do it here…” Said the scruffy, old pale man with his trousers pulled up and beard untouched and frizzed. His blue orbs looked down, taking one silver knife and cutting a thin piece, now releasing a groan of hatred towards the blandness of the food. “…I didn’t have this back at where I lived…” he scoffed, now his wrinkled and baby soft skin got up from the excuse of a table. Even then, the old farmer didn’t seem pleased with the mountain view out of the window; and most importantly not the lights that looked much like fire fly’s. How he missed fire fly’s. and then the cars honked, way down from five-story place was taxi’s, he didn’t see this where he lived. Oh no, he hasn’t seen this. (sorry for the different font)

Ugh. Even the sided cotton by the window seemed displaced, and the window seemed like a mirror, the planes of free land that you could go over for hours, and the horses and cows that neighed constantly, now walking over to the poor young man, coughing and whimpering at the walls of it all; it seemed it didn’t have an end. The yellow fields and the grains falling in the lawn, the peaceful of nothing and the ringing noise in the back of his head, the way he rubbed his slender hands across his short black hair didn’t seem nice. But he was told by the old bearded man this was better, and the suggestion last time didn’t snap down the case, seemed he was happier? Must have been, it was less of the thrill here. Even the toast, which was crispy, he had made himself and taken the eggs from bottom of the hens. Oh, how he missed the city lights, now just a replica of it was fire fly’s…icy globes now moving to the coffee machine brewing as it gulped, now continuing and making everything less quiet, quiet wasn’t peace to the young man. “Steady now rover…” he said, replicating the old man’s happy voice, imagining him drunk with a cigar in his mouth while eating everything he could imagine. “Steady…” (related to the last)

The long pink stick like thing moved steadily down the sewers, it stunk tediously, and the rat chirped as it looked around, grimy nails hooked on a ledge as it sniffed, it’s eyes black as night as it scanned the dark area. Even then, all the rat’s life it had lived down in the green, dark sewers, fear trembled over it as it’s voice went weak and trembled. Almost as if it smelled something as it’s whiskers twitched, flimsy and quivering did it run over the moss and green water so quickly the air couldn’t take grasp as it skipped. “He’s coming! He’s coming!” The rat bellowed through the sewer and the gorge on the ground as water spiked the rat, as it twitched more. Even more rats hear it’s cries, now running over from all corners, following the rat who screamed this repeatedly. Now, they repeated this verdict like a choir.  Here and now, the grim cellar had shaken like an earth quake to the little ones as they hushed, looking in all directions before being so still their bones froze like they was dead. At this juncture something bawled a name all too familiar, something that made each and everyone of them run and leave their skins stuck to the green goo.

 

( First attempts, 841 words in total and I wrote this as Las Vegas )




1 Answer

+1 vote
by (95.3k points)
Good Job! They’re interesting.
by (415k points)
thx!



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