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#acorn. #jewel. #colourchallenge. She stood before the flames. A priestess, formed by the sun. Staring at their beauty. Waiting for the followers to come. Tantalising colours burn in the night.
" Welcome to Gladrags, how may I help you?" said a cheerful woman as I entered the store.
A man burst into a room then, attracting the King and Queen's attention, and he started to talk so fast that I didn't understand a word he was saying.
The last couple of chapters have been all doom and gloom so hopefully this will be a bit cheerier. It's not very long but this is what my imagination produced after spending half an hour gardening.
"Be careful, Freya" Charming whispered. He was starting to looking at me like Lampton once had. I felt like I had to put him straight. "Charming, go get your wife.
Five people in two years have been found murdered on the side of the B10 dual carriage way to Cheshum.
She was plastic fantastic. Loved floating in the sea. Theres no chance of drowning. With her 38DD's. She had lips like bee stings. And eyes like a cat. There's no chance of wrinkles.
Just one girl against the world. Just one girl must win the war. Just one girl Must fight like she never has before. Just one girl can never cry. Just one girl must live to die.
If your stuck at my contest , here is an example of what I'm looking for. As Lucy crept along the hallway of the old deserted house she heard her phone ring. It was her boyfriend Matt.
[I know I missed this #description challenge but meh, here's my #procrastination anyway.
Sorry for the wait. :) 19 years later... ~Elle~ Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock... My eyelids shoot open and I gasp, nineteen years worth of air flooding into my lungs, oxygen rushing through my veins.
The hands have faded and onyx and his team are running towards me, I lift my head wearily as I watch the last of the plants slowly shrivel up Then my vision goes blank..
Chapter 19: I hadn't spoken to Cindy or Jasmine in weeks and knew my best friend's time in Britain was coming to an end.
She stood before the flames. A priestess, formed by the sun. Staring at their beauty. Waiting for the followers to come. Tantalising colours burn in the night. They gather from all around.
She lowered hair, As fine as gold, Her lips were pursed, Her eyes were bold. Her hair went on, It touched the floor, It didn't stop, It ran some more.
The wind whipped my hair as I galloped across the land. Past tufts of green and hissing snakes. I slowed down as the wooden town, placed in the middle of no where, entered my sight.
She was given a golden crown, Coveted by all of men. But at sixteen her luck was down. And with a quill ink pen. One sent her off to a tower, For the treason she didn't commit.
Part 2# Even as a little girl I loved dresses. The satin feel, the classy look, the fresh smell, and the way it made heads turn. The dress the plump lady was wearing was perfect.
I have decided to write a story. This is the first chapter. Please comment and let me know whether you like it and should I carry on. Oh and I haven't thought of a name sorry.
Chapter one: "Anna?!" No answer. "Anna, do you read me?!" No answer. "Anna, are you stable?!" "I read you Birdie, use my copy name remember.
Well, let me just start by saying this, This is a story we all love and miss, Its called Snow White, a thrilling tale, This is my version, you won't get in a sale...
The cold autumn air coiled around me like tin foil causing goosebumps to run up and down my soft, porcelain-colored skin. My dark brown ringlet-curls bounced as I walked.
She walked straight ahead not caring what was around. Not looking back once. She acted freely along with the breeze; she was like butterfly that flies everywhere she desires.
The gates of hell beckoned me forward. My tight, white dress hugging my form as the restless werewolves at my back sent rumbling growls through the very rock beneath my feet.