I'm 17. what do you focus of my writing?
Elma rushed down Redville streets, raising her eyebrows and curling her lips at the image of Vladimir, pulling out his dagger and dipping it within his chest. Why would the king of Redville kill himself?
She stopped in front of a wooden house, bending leftward as if it was give or take a few to fall on its side. It was The Gustav’s house.
She knocked the door. Waiting for someone to start, she turned and examined her long face inside a puddle of water on the flagstones.
She knocked again; the door shaking below her knuckles.
“Who’s there?” a shrill voice spoke from behind the door, then an eye appeared at the keyhole.
“It’s Elma.”
The door flung open. A slender woman, wearing her sleeping dress, frowned at Elma. “What brings you at such a late time?”
Elma smiled. “Nice to see you again, Beatrice.” And without go-ahead, she headed into the house.
“The place hasn’t changed.” She said,
Elma surveyed the living room. A small lantern, lit with a green candle hung down from the low ceiling. A round, three legged table stood beside the fireplace.
“I need to see Walter.” Elma said, “News that concern one of your babies.”
She walk to the other end of the living room and smiled at the four babies sleeping on the sofa under the window. She brought her obverse closer to the babies, studying them. They all had blue eyes, aquiline noses, and soft damp skin, but one baby was different. He had a long collar, different from his sibling’s short necks.
“I know you’re wondering about his neck,” Beatrice said, “He’s call Ethan. He was born two minutes after his siblings.”
“Where’s Walter?” Elma asked.
“I’m here,” a tall man, raising his black trousers slightly underneath his chest, stood at the door of the living room. “I see that you finally decided to ask.”
Elma shivered at the voice of Walter. Dipping her hands in her coat’s pockets, she walk to the window “May be I thought that you’d ask yourself,”
Beatrice shifted her eyes between Walter and Elma. “Did you know each other before?” She said, “I didn’t know it.”
“Let’s be hospitable Beatrice,” Walter said, walking to Elma and offering her a firm grasp. “Go bring some rum and butter.”
“I didn’t come to say hello Walter,” Elma said, “There’s a prophecy that concerns one of your children. You must know.”
Walter’s gaze narrowed.
“Beatrice,” he said, focusing his eyes over Elma. “Please leave us alone.”
“They’re my children,” Beatrice shouted, “I must know what Elma have to say,”
“Beatrice,” Walter said, flattening his chin against his neck. “I don’t want to converse.”
“What do you mean? You…” Beatrice go on, but Edward thumped the wooden ground with his feet and a vase over the fireplace crashed to the floor. “Leave us alone.”
Answers:
it's good, hold on to it up. :)
nice
Very nice format, your writing skills are extraordinary. I be very interested in your story. Nice details and it captures the reader attention. I would love to know what happened to the baby. Keep up the Awesome work!! Don't ever stop believing.
it interest me IM 13 I SUCK AT WRITING! my stories are to fast passed,keep it up is there more to it! Source(s): i approaching to read on da internet better than a book
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She stopped in front of a wooden house, bending leftward as if it was give or take a few to fall on its side. It was The Gustav’s house.
She knocked the door. Waiting for someone to start, she turned and examined her long face inside a puddle of water on the flagstones.
She knocked again; the door shaking below her knuckles.
“Who’s there?” a shrill voice spoke from behind the door, then an eye appeared at the keyhole.
“It’s Elma.”
The door flung open. A slender woman, wearing her sleeping dress, frowned at Elma. “What brings you at such a late time?”
Elma smiled. “Nice to see you again, Beatrice.” And without go-ahead, she headed into the house.
“The place hasn’t changed.” She said,
Elma surveyed the living room. A small lantern, lit with a green candle hung down from the low ceiling. A round, three legged table stood beside the fireplace.
“I need to see Walter.” Elma said, “News that concern one of your babies.”
She walk to the other end of the living room and smiled at the four babies sleeping on the sofa under the window. She brought her obverse closer to the babies, studying them. They all had blue eyes, aquiline noses, and soft damp skin, but one baby was different. He had a long collar, different from his sibling’s short necks.
“I know you’re wondering about his neck,” Beatrice said, “He’s call Ethan. He was born two minutes after his siblings.”
“Where’s Walter?” Elma asked.
“I’m here,” a tall man, raising his black trousers slightly underneath his chest, stood at the door of the living room. “I see that you finally decided to ask.”
Elma shivered at the voice of Walter. Dipping her hands in her coat’s pockets, she walk to the window “May be I thought that you’d ask yourself,”
Beatrice shifted her eyes between Walter and Elma. “Did you know each other before?” She said, “I didn’t know it.”
“Let’s be hospitable Beatrice,” Walter said, walking to Elma and offering her a firm grasp. “Go bring some rum and butter.”
“I didn’t come to say hello Walter,” Elma said, “There’s a prophecy that concerns one of your children. You must know.”
Walter’s gaze narrowed.
“Beatrice,” he said, focusing his eyes over Elma. “Please leave us alone.”
“They’re my children,” Beatrice shouted, “I must know what Elma have to say,”
“Beatrice,” Walter said, flattening his chin against his neck. “I don’t want to converse.”
“What do you mean? You…” Beatrice go on, but Edward thumped the wooden ground with his feet and a vase over the fireplace crashed to the floor. “Leave us alone.”
Answers:
it's good, hold on to it up. :)
nice
Very nice format, your writing skills are extraordinary. I be very interested in your story. Nice details and it captures the reader attention. I would love to know what happened to the baby. Keep up the Awesome work!! Don't ever stop believing.
it interest me IM 13 I SUCK AT WRITING! my stories are to fast passed,keep it up is there more to it! Source(s): i approaching to read on da internet better than a book
Related Questions:
How to acquire a story conception?
I have always had a desire to be a writer. But I can't write anything. When I enjoy something to build off of, I can do it, but when I need to build a story up from scratch, I receive serious writer's block, and just don't know where to begin... please comfort? monitor some movies that...
Do you feel Patrick Bateman be really a murderer or do you reckon he be imagine it adjectives?
what was your opinion on him? I agree next to Twilight is the best book ever They are soooooooo right All a dream end.I'd say The Butcher Boy by Patrick McCabe is still the superior book I'm not sure. I think I'm torn. In...