Monday, March 25, 2013

Vision From The Past In The Future

Coursework
Original writing

Vision of the past in the present

Cold outside and me warm, cozy in my soft comfortable duvet. Another sleepyheaded day, outside pouring with rain. In the kitchen my precious, loving mother ball up me with her homemade double coffee tree chip cookies with cold milk, blank as innocence. Fresh from the farm ready to be drunk.

all of a sudden at that place was a band on the limen. It was a nameless and loud bang like an orchestra. In the shock I dropped the milk all over the floor.
Oh no my dumb was coming. Maisy what was that randomness? said mum in a complete shock.
momma I think someones at the door I replied.
Ill go and check said mum; there was no reply from her.
Mum, you there? said confusingly.
again there was no reply from her, save the creak from the front line door. My tension boiled up like a stewing egg. I slowly approached the door as a tiger hunting for its prey. With my eyes wide open, searching for my mother.

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder, terrorized and unnerved she turned around. It was only my mother. My eyes were trembling with fear; I hastily engrossed myself in my mothers arms, securing myself with the same comfort as a new born baby. Just then a cold breeze took me to the past...

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I found myself standing in the cold mist, the fog around making it nearly unaccepted for me to see.
Hello, whos there? Can you hear me?
It looked like a female figure disappearing in the withdrawnness. Echoing office of someone, it sounded similar.
Whos there? I said.
Not know where the verbalise was coming from I turned around, vision in the distance where I saw a near faded childhood memory. The fresh summery green grass, the warm feeling of a new day blossoming like a one thousand thousand flowers. Similar face in the air, the homemade double chocolate chip cookies in countryside autumn breeze. Searching for the smell, a smell that has followed me throughout my whole life.

There in far finish I can see a mother and her twain daughters playing...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com



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