Creative Writing: Statue Of The Little Boy

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As soon as I entered the park, I went looking for the statue of the little boy that I remembered so well from last summer. I knew it was on the south side of the park, but I was not sure exactly where. As soon as I began my quest, I could faintly smell roses, a smell so familiar from the endless warm summer days that Jordan and I would spend next to the rose garden, in front of the statue. I knew I was getting close. Next, I saw the roses in the distance from where I was, walking towards the stairs that lead to the rose garden. I remembered walking in the same general direction. I was closer.

Then I got to the stairs. As I was walking down the steps I looked to my right. There was a statue of a beautiful woman, not the right statue. Finally, I looked to my left, and there it was. My heart skipped a beat. I could remember the very first time I saw that statue. It was a hot day in mid-July when Jordan and I first stumbled upon it. Last summer while I was living in the dorms, Jordan was my best friend; we spent every waking moment together. One day we decided to walk in the park, we got to the rose garden and were talking about the roses until we saw the little boy. We …show more content…

For quite some time I simply stared at the boy, almost as if I were waiting for him to move. I noticed that when the sun shone, it reflected off the wet body, and every once in a while I could see the slight reflection of a cloud. The sun reflected brightest off of the boys cheekbones, which made him look extremely happy. It was not until this point that I realized the boy was leaning on something. I got back up and carefully walked all around the boy. Curiously, I looked at what I had missed. It was apparent now that he was leaning on a dead tree stump surrounded by cattails. I thought to myself, "Maybe the boy had been walking through a desolate swampy area when he stepped on a tortoise and almost

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