docwen
I tried to alter my appearance as much as possible. First dates were nervewracking enough without having to worry about the hideous scar visible down my left cheek. No amount of makeup could cover it up.
The thunder of the cannon boomed, the trees crashing down the field as more men fell to the hideous gun. Blood drained into the stream at the bottom, a horrific sight to behold.
the smell of lilac wafted off the sheets when I flung them in the breeze and over the taut clothes line. The sun beating down on my head, part of the sheets were already drying. Crisp.
As i sat in english class diagraming sentences, I thought how dull. The language should fly off the page not be tacked down by bars and lines. writing is magical, why should we break it down?