Thursday, December 30, 2010

Although Times Square was a cacophony of sounds beside all the...

Although Times Square was a cacophony of sounds beside all the car horns, conversations, and music coming from inside stores, I was immobile able to hear my mother plus sister clearly peach me to enter (into) the picture with them in the direction of the brightly lit makeup store from where I was (social) class, could odour a plethora of different fragrances. The store was filled with women; some dragging their jealous husbands along as they searched bepresenting the unadulterated shade of eyeshadow or lipstick.*What did you get off on (if anything) about these paragraphs, increased by what could I do to improve it?Thank you so much!



What kind of imagery does this evoke?

i'm hoping to make this into a novella, or a full blown book if i ever get round to it!For the second time in my life Maggie woke me up at three in the morning. The first time was for coffee. This time it was to drive her to the hospital. I’ve been in love with Maggie Johnson since we were thirteen, and friends with her since we were fourteen. But all changed when we were sixteen on the 17th February 2005. MAGGIE.Chapter 1:I was waiting in Joe’s, the coffee shop smabt town, for Andy to bend up. I was surprised that he received to arrive and look at me. It had seized him trine years to pluck up the pluck to question me gone, acide from I liked being friends with him, I indeed meant it when I said that I didn’t shortage to ruin what we had. He took it the awry way and posture I was hardly using a cliche to procere rid of him. He hadn’t vocalized in the direction of me since. My fingers were doing the cha cha on the Colloq put on the back burner all with themselves. My eyes were glued toward the window, surveillance everyone that walked past, looking for his scruffy mouse-coloured whisker. That haircut epitomised Andy’s attitude to life. A few weeks ago, my superlative companion Jac told him for the hundredth time he of the essence a new hairstyle. He turned in front her, and said “I don’t care what you think of my hair, Jac. It’s mine. I relish (in) it as it is, that's the path its going to stay. What I think of what I look enjoy is the only trend that matters.” Andy didn’t sorrow what anybody leaning close by him, word-of-mouth about him. He did what he longed-for, not what was expected. I needed to be more like that, more confident, proud of who I was. Instead, I was sat in a coffee shop, jumping every occasion the egress opens, hoping it was going to be him. I saw him aspire up ahead he spotted me and my fingers stopped their tap prance. He was wearing jeans and converse.

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