Friday, 25 November 2016
Monday, 7 November 2016
The Material felt like
The bark felt rough like the wood on an abandoned house. The wind blowing through the leaves sounded like your teacher scrunching your horrible work up. All the leaves felt soft like pillows that you use for a pillow fight. The fruit that fell from the trees smelt like garbage trucks, you could tell its been there forever.
Labels:
Writing
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)