The cold weather, and falling snow, persists throughout the morning. Cloudy, yet the sun manges to peek its way through, causing a reflective white hue to light up the Canterlot streets. For most ponies, they squint their eyes from the bright reflectance, but Octavia is an exception. She is use being on the spot with lights blaring right into her eyes while she does her performances. It didn’t bother her.
Octavia mopes her way through the streets releasing tears as she walk. The ponies walking along the streets give her glares of moderate concern. She stops her movement and looks up into the snow fall sky. Sparkling flakes crashes down on her face; they mix with her tears; they dissolve instantaneously as they come in contact with her tears. Octavia wipes her tears away with her hooves, and looks back up; she gets back on track and continues at her normal, walking, pace.
Without any caution taken, she walks and notices a new cello store opening. While Octavia focuses her attention on the new store, she doesn’t take into account her front line of site. She bumps into a pony who is...
In “Midnight, Licorice, Shadow” by Becky Hagenston the author successfully created complex characters that help motivated the tension in the story. Haegenston capability of switching between the past in the present to further understand the character’s actions encourages the pace of the story. By doing this reader learn more information about a character such as Lacey. One may learn that she a pathological liar that is suffering from identity crisis and may have never experience a positive relationship with any man in her life. She uses men for her benefit and we learn that when she tells us stories from her past. Readers learn that Jeremy has difficulties in social environments and building healthy relationships as well through hearing stories
“Her face was fair and pretty, with eyes like two bits of night-sky, each with a star dissolved in the blue.” This elaborate simile creates a mental image of the natural beauty of the young princess, Irene, by comparing her eyes to the night sky. The simile also parallels the depth of Irene’s soul to the dark, endless night sky.
Its 7:09 a.m. and Mia Tall, a cello player, doesn't have school today due to the snow that flew in over the night. Mia's parents decide to go to Portland to visit family friends. On the way there, they crash with another car because of the weather condition Afterwards, Mia notices her parents’ bodies, her little brother’s, and disturbingly her body too. Throughout the whole book Mia is having an "out- of -body experience." Mia gives the readers flashbacks of her gleeful, loving life. Mia spends several days juggling two important decisions, life or death. Mia finally decides to stay, and goes on with her life.
The clouds roll by saturated with teardrops, evidence of the burden they carry. Pure blue is wiped from the sky, replaced by a gun-metal gray shot through with a bruised night. The trees shudder with chills as they brace themselves for the downpour. Then, the clouds slow down, dragging themselves forward, bogged down by the weight of their luggage. A few tears spill, darkening the earth at the points of contact. They pause. Should they move on, move just a little bit farther? No, thunder and lightning follow, the first heart-wrenching sob that unleashes torrents of grief. As the clouds above hold each other while they weep, I watch as a small, pink worm pushes through to the surface emerging from the tear-streaked soil. The world rages around him while he tests the air and gathers his bearings. It is not cautious, nor contemplative;
Deep in the valley the Wood Sprites and the Fairies flocked together, trembling in their masses; when all were gathered they embraced each other in a fond farewell, then they began to sing such a melancholy song, dancing and swaying in a hypnotic rhythm; the song carried out across the wood, birds in the trees stopped to listen, their heads on one side, their eyes shining with sorrow and the animals crept from their dens and burrows to watch. The air in the wood was thick with sadness, a fox gave a low mewl, it's ears flattening against it's slender head, a magnificent stag threw back it's head and let out a long roar that rose and mingled with the notes of the song.
She sits on the floor by the window, gazing out at the softly falling snow. She rocks back and forth gently, cocooned in a potato sack blanket. Not a sound has escaped her since I found her out in the cold, earlier today, as I was surveying the forest.
Snowed-in a bit yesterday with only a rare store open or two. Today, snow banks are piled high with plows running about, even 20 floors up I can hear them occasionally come and go. Moxie with Mush on his paws and Penelope in her famous red boots still managed to yellow the snow as I picked up a pile or two. We ventured out up West End and down Broadway, having to carry Mr. Moxie at times for he would lift his paw shivering, looking back up at me. Miss Penelope's personality persevered even through the deepest intersections. We would come back home, laying out all our gear to dry just in time for the next potty break to come.
Encompassed by a sea of wildflowers, I inhaled the intoxicating aroma of lavender as the blossoms tickled my ankles, swaying in the delicate breeze. The setting sun painted the sky soft shades of rose and fuschia, and beside me, Rainbow Dash, my majestic cyan-colored pegasus, whinnied. I reached up, to run my fingers through her silky, vibrantly colored mane…
as she walked down the empty street. Her wings, usually a mixture of dark brown and dirty blond, were covered in dust and mud. She couldn't wash them herself, she needed someone else to help and ever since she left the flock, she had no one to help clean them. Her flock had kicked her out after she had helped a demon, which was strictly forbidden. She had been on the run ever since then, too scared to show anyone or use her wings. She finally sighed and pulled off her leather jacket, letting her wings stretch out as she walked down the empty road. She smiled slightly and began humming, breaking the deafening silence around her as she thought about where she was going next, her wings stretched out across the road. She continued walking until she saw a bright light and felt the cool metal of a car hit her hip, throwing her off balance and to the concrete as she cried out, landing on her wing and hearing a loud snap. She laid out dazed until she heard a voice above her and a gentle hand nudging her shoulder.
Thanks.", she called back to him knowing now that it was certainly time to ditch the pooch. When she felt she was a good ways ahead of him she glanced back over her shoulder only to see that he was trailing behind her, her heart dropped as a panic set in. All of the sudden she felt like a rabbit running from the big bad wolf. But this rabbit wasn't about to fall victim to such a beast! Internally cursing she needed to loose him, or at least force him to back off... but how? Her eyes landed on what appeared to be a large store of some sort, full of what looked like fancy plates and glasses just across the street. Surely he wouldn't do anything foolish if she went in
Her main problem was that she had never even touched an instrument before; she never had too. She has always been fascinated with the violin and the piano, but choosing 1 over the other would be impossible for her. While pondering that though, her mother called her to the moving truck. She grew up in a pretty clean environment so smelling the near toxic stench of the trucks exhausts made her very queasy. Her parents were standing on the side of the truck so she decided to join them and escape the black cloud. ‘’Why did you call me down to the truck?’’, Nora asked nervously. ‘’Did I do something wrong?’’ Without saying even a single word Nora’s mother gestured towards the back of the truck.
I strolled towards the double glass doors, deliberately kicking at a large, spiky, chestnut pod as I went. It skidded across the concrete and sent three more spike-balls rolling before toppling over the edge of the ramp. Gazing upward through the branches, which were camouflaged by green and brown splotched clumps of large, tear-drop shaped leaves, I could see bits of crisp, blue, autumn sky. I repositioned the strap of my viola case on my shoulder. It's too bad I can't stay out here to enjoy the weather. At that thought, I slowed my walk. Why am I nervous? I'm more prepared for my lesson this week than I have been in a long time. The set of doors now loomed ahead of me, and I tugged one of them open, making my way up to the second floor of the building. I knew there was no reason for me to be nervous, but the butterflies flitting around in my stomach didn't seem to care.
However, before that, she rolls over on the bed and opens her sleepy eyes—not to a cement ceiling in a lonely cell—but a painted ceiling with lights strung across. At first, Sun is alarmed, suddenly feeling adrenaline speed up her heart and she sits up abruptly. As she looks around the room, she sees familiar things that attribute themselves to belonging Riley. A stereo, a pile of records, a flag of Iceland. Sun has seen these things before, but never in person.
I breathed in the misty air of the gracefully falling snow, trembling with nervousness but confident with sheen. It shook, barely, but it seemed disastrous, then again barely though; it was like looking at water drop upon a crystal surface. The snow looked so beautiful, but it was to touch the ground. Everything looks beautiful until it falls down.
It was a princess standing out there in front of the gate. But, good gracious! what a sight the rain and the wind had made her look. The water ran down from her hair and clothes; it ran down into the toes of her shoes and out again at the heels. And yet she said that she was a real princess.