This week we have been working on describing a moment in time in our writing, we used present tense to do this. We had to pick an image and come up with a story behind it, it had to be somewhat realistic and in present rather than past tense.
I had enough time to write 2 stories based off of 2 images, here are the stories I wrote:
A different perspective
The world moves around the man quickly, he can never keep up, he sits on the bench, anger fills his eyes, although he is not sure if it is anger anymore, maybe it was his despair, finally taking over, finally, he has been distraught for weeks it was not his fault, yet he could only blame himself.
A small smile forms on his lips as the people around him start to slow down, he lets out a sigh, letting tears slowly spill down his cheeks, but the world will not stop slowing. The man becomes nervous, he stands, walking off towards the nearest shop. He places his hands on the recent newspaper, skimming through the first page, the words turn to gibberish, his eyes widen. The man leaves the shop without paying for the paper, everything is still slowing down. He breaks into a sprint as he reaches the hospital, he rushes through the doors, there she is, coughing up blood, struggling to breath.
The girl is small and fragile, the world comes to a stop as she falls unconscious, the hospital staff are moving around, trying to help her. The man starts to breath heavily, the beeping stops as it is wrapped up with one final beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
With that the world begins to move around the man again, faster than ever before, he tries to scream but no sound will escape his lips, he wants to throw up. How could he have done this? How could he have let his daughter die? The man stood up, grasping the newspaper in his hand.
The man walks out of the hospital, ignoring everyone's pity, everyone's gratitude, he walks back to the bench, taking a seat he looks to the woman sitting next to him, she smiles kindly, but he could not smile back, as he realises she is wearing a bandanna, a cancer bandanna.
Like his daughter, she too had cancer, the man turns his glance to something else, a small tree in the distance, gently shifting in the breeze, shifting at a normal speed, not too fast, not too slow, The man's smiles, as he pulls out the newspaper, the words are English, he ignores the people around him, using the newspaper as a distraction from the horror of his life…
She was forgotten…
The strange girl walks down street, admiring the swirling patterns the clouds made around the moon, the stars peaked from the designs, almost smiling down at her.
“WATCH OUT” A boy yells as he rides past her on his bike, the girl stands there for a few seconds, flustered, the cold wind envelopes her, she quietly whimpers, but she continues to walk down the road, the snow gently falling around her.
She lets out a heavy sigh, watching as her breath forms beautiful patterns in the winter air, the street lights turn on as she continues to walk through the quiet streets.
The girl pulls her thin coat tighter around her body as the wind spirals through the streets, she could feel and hear her stomach growling but keeps her head down, not giving in to the temptation of the delicious looking foods in shop windows, one by one the shop lights seem to be going off, all but one, at the end of the street, the barber shop stands alone, or at least it seems that way, it seems isolated, although it is surrounded by other shops, the single warm light glows brightly against the night sky.
The girl makes up her mind to go in as she nears the shop, she is getting closer and closer to the end of the street, watching the single light in the window, the pole stops turning and the girl sighs, turning away from the barber shop, it was closed.
She looks back, noticing the light hasn't gone out yet and the door hasn’t closed, she turns back, towards the shop, but gives up hope when she see’s that there is no one standing at the counter, she shook her head before entering, softly tapping the bell the sat on the countertop.
“We’re closed sorry.” A gruff looking old man says as he steps through the door behind the counter,
“Who is it?” A woman about the same age asks, the girls eyes widen,
“Olivia!” The woman gasps...
So they were my stories! I hope you liked them and they are not fully edited yet so there may be a few mistakes. I am excited to use this writing technique in the future.
- Grace
