Morning Memories
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Thunder footsteps boom like an execution drum as it ascends the straining stairs. With each gradual beat, the threat increases, looming ever nearer. The echoes seem hollow amongst the eerie morning stillness. It charges down the creaking landing, gaining speed with each stride as it heads towards my sleeping sister's room. Effortlessly, it flings open the heavy oak door, pausing momentarily and menacingly as it towers over its unsuspecting victim. I bury deeper into my haven, anticipating the inevitable storm of shrieks that are about to erupt, exploding and shattering the slumbering silence. I hear the hysterical, haunting...
comes into view. The 'prison' doors are firmly shut, forcing hundreds of shivering pupils to stand in the bitter frost. Inside, stand the prison guards munching hobnobs whilst sipping their steaming coffee, gleefully. Clouds of breath cut the crisp air. My ashen, numb hands are stuffed inside my pockets and my toes curl up inside my black, leather shoes. All is still, silently awaiting the bell. At last, a monotonous, piercing note slices the sharp air. The surreal stillness is broken by a sudden stampede, as I charge with the herd towards the inviting warmth. Another day begins.
comes into view. The 'prison' doors are firmly shut, forcing hundreds of shivering pupils to stand in the bitter frost. Inside, stand the prison guards munching hobnobs whilst sipping their steaming coffee, gleefully. Clouds of breath cut the crisp air. My ashen, numb hands are stuffed inside my pockets and my toes curl up inside my black, leather shoes. All is still, silently awaiting the bell. At last, a monotonous, piercing note slices the sharp air. The surreal stillness is broken by a sudden stampede, as I charge with the herd towards the inviting warmth. Another day begins.
The alarm rang. Inside the Museum of Fine and Rare Artifacts someone reached out and grabbed something. The alarm's shrill note rang out into the darkness of the night and into the buzzing city of London. Up on the roof, a skylight was pushed open and it crashed down with...
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An Emotional And Frightening Encounter. I sit under the old gold plated clock, and I listen to its slow ticking. I stare down at the old cobble stone street, and feel the ice-cold raindrops rolling down my numb warm cheeks. The rain falls down from the bright stars which you...
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I just want to know why i"m feeling this way i dream about you everynight and think of you everyday. i don"t know if i can say what i feel is really love but i"m missing you now and it"s driving me crazy. wishing you were here by myside is...
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Procrastination is more than just a negative custom that needs to be weeded out of society; it is also a cliché‚ a small-talk joke, boast, or complaint. After all, we all do it. Most everybody I know is willing to admit it is an exasperating problem in their life, and...
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