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| Words: 1240 | Submitted: 31-Aug-2011
56.0% | Number of pages: 3 | Filetype: Word .doc
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DescriptionDescriptive writing about a dream.
Drip…Drip…Drip... It was the February fidelity and you can imagine the rainy and windy day that it was, with the dishwater sky when time just seemed to stand still. However, today seemed to dawdle on even longer. Standing stiff under the half-shielding bus stand resulted in my back being constantly thrashed by the pounding of the forceful rain. It was one of those dreadful, dreary and doused days when I felt extremely depressed that I could not be bothered to do anything and the weather was the root of it all. All I wanted to do was to curl up in my warm bed, but I could not, I had to go to school.
The grey beads were slanting down soaking my clothes. The raindrops slithered down the roofs and walls of the buildings, poured off the awnings and hit everyone that passed by. They then surged into the gutters from where the continuous gurgle sound could be heard, until they disappeared with a splash down the bottomless drains. The darkness that was brought along with the rain underlined it. It was so bleak and gloomy that everything seemed black. The streets lights were on but looked fuzzy and dim as the rain dispersed the light. The streetlights were the only miniscule stars peeping through the misty night.
The car drivers would drown everyone as they passed through the floods. They seemed frustrated and their hands clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles. They drove carefully, with their windscreen wipers lashing away trying to unmask themselves from the nightmare, but failing.
The wind, unable to resist the temptation of joining its allies, had a large role to play. It howled and it wailed and it shrieked. It drove in one direction and then blew the other way, forcing people to move one way and then turn the other. The wind had destroyed the whole layout of the environment. Brown leaves, dead and colourless, which had gathered on the pits of the roads, whirled away like mini twisters. It clutched hold of a polythene carrier bag and hurled it away, and then left it to the bare boned tree, where the bag clung for its life.
A dejected dog, soaked to the skin, tail between his legs, shivered his way down the street. There were no pleasant sounds; even the birds were hibernating; only the roaring of the cars could be heard.
All the pedestrians were cursing this wretched weather under their breath. They were wearing long overcoats of dark and dull colours, mixtures of black, brown, blue and a range of greys. All of them were walking with collars up, hands in pockets, faces down and charging through the streets. Their breath could ...
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