The Morning Glory's Sun

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Filled with exhaustion, Emily's eyes fluttered closed. A vision swirled through her head, entering into her dreams.
She was standing in a garden, the pearly colors of dawn all around her. Dew hung on the vines that were clinging to the low stone wall beside her, droplets of water dripping onto the moist grass at her bare feet. Soft purple morning glories grew on the vines, their faces turned toward the pale yellow sun, gently swaying in the morning breeze. A robin sang a happy blessing to the world as it spread it's wings in the cherry tree that stood in the corner of the yard, preparing for flight.
A cheerful cottage stood beside her, rose and ivy vines climbing up it's stone walls. The trim on the windows was painted a reddish burgundy and ivory curtains hung behind the panes. She was taking the sight in, reveling in the beauty when something caught her eye.
A young man stood by a back door that she hadn't noticed, watching her, his deep blue eyes capturing every detail of her face, memorizing it. The angular face was smooth and a creamy white in complexion, with a hint of pink at the sharp cheekbones. His jet black hair swished across his face, the tips of it just barely brushing his shoulder. His full lips were twisted into a gentle quirk at the corners, like they knew something, but that something was too precious to tell. Somehow, she knew him, every nerve in her body seemed to be hardwired to him, this gorgeous, smirking man.
He wore a charcoal gray shirt that clung to his chest, outlining every muscle. A dark green cloak swirled around him, clasped at his throat with an emerald pendant. His profile was lean, like a cat's. Everything about him reminded Emily of a panther.
His arms were rocking back and forth just enough to catch her attention. In them, he cradled a small baby, no more than a few months old. It was a girl swaddled in a sapphire cashmere blanket. Her blue eyes gazed adoringly up at her father, for there was no doubt of the connection. She had his eyes and delicate bones, but her hair was gold, curling into little ringlets at the bottom.
When Emily looked back up at the man, he was still looking at her, as if waiting for her to speak, but she found that speech was impossible. She could only gaze at the two in wonder, not finding any words to say. They stood looking at each other for a moment, both searching for something in the other's eyes, some kind of understanding.
A moment later, he stepped forward, his body seeming to glide over the grass. His cloak trailed behind him, exposing one woven leather sandal. In a matter of seconds, without seeming to have hardly moved, he was standing in front of her, a few footsteps away.
Life is like a gravel road. In some parts it's smooth, but in others rough. Just when you think that life is pointless, it gets better. There is always hope.




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I wrote this as a short photograph basically. Once I was day dreaming and an image flashed into my head. I wrote it down so that I could remember it. It's only half finished, but I liked it right where it was because I couldn't figure out what to do with the next part.
Life is like a gravel road. In some parts it's smooth, but in others rough. Just when you think that life is pointless, it gets better. There is always hope.




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Wow, this was amazing. You have a real talent for writing, so definitely use that to your advantage.

I couldn't find anything wrong with this piece! I read it a few times over, and I just couldn't find anything.

Keep up the wonderful work, and PM me when you get the next part out!


-Roe
the opposite of peace isn't
WAR
it's
CREATION




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Comments in red.

brightangel22 wrote:Filled with exhaustion, Emily's eyes fluttered closed. Revise. Filled with exhaustion is modifying Emily's eyes here, not Emily. Which makes it weird. A vision swirled through her head, entering into her dreams.
She was standing in a garden, the pearly colors of dawn all around her. Dew hung on the vines that clung (Try to get rid of "was" and "were". They slow down sentences.) to the low stone wall beside her, droplets of water dripping onto the moist grass at her bare feet. Soft purple morning glories grew on the vines, their faces turned toward the pale yellow sun, gently swaying in the morning breeze. A robin sang a happy blessing to the world as it spread it's wings in the cherry tree that stood in the corner of the yard, preparing for flight. Honestly, this paragraph isn't working for me.
A cheerful cottage stood beside her, rose and ivy vines climbing up it's stone walls. The trim on the windows was painted a reddish burgundy and ivory curtains hung behind the panes. She was taking the sight in, reveling in the beauty when something caught her eye. Again, not working for me. It's kind of too much description. (But take this with a grain of salt - I hate description most of the time.)
A young man stood by a back door that she hadn't noticed, So she never noticed the back door while drinking in the beauty around her? watching her, his deep blue eyes capturing every detail of her face, memorizing it. How does she know he's memorizing the details on her face? Show us. The angular face was smooth and a creamy white in complexion, with a hint of pink at the sharp cheekbones. His jet black hair swished across his face, the tips of it just barely brushing his shoulder. His full lips were twisted into a gentle quirk at the corners, like they knew something but that something was too precious to tell. Somehow, she knew him, every nerve in her body seemed to be hardwired to him - this gorgeous, smirking man.
He wore a charcoal gray shirt that clung to his chest, outlining every muscle. A dark green cloak swirled around him, clasped at his throat with an emerald pendant. His profile was lean, like a cat's. Everything about him reminded Emily of a panther.
His arms were rocking back and forth just enough to catch her attention. In them, he cradled a small baby, no more than a few months old. It was a girl swaddled in a sapphire cashmere blanket. Her blue eyes gazed adoringly up at her father, for there was no doubt of the connection. She had his eyes and delicate bones, but her hair was gold, curling into little ringlets at the bottom.
When Emily looked back up at the man, he was still looking at her, as if waiting for her to speak, but she found that speech was impossible. She could only gaze at the two in wonder, not finding any words to say. They stood looking at each other for a moment, both searching for something in the other's eyes, some kind of understanding.
A moment later, he stepped forward, his body seeming to glide over the grass. His cloak trailed behind him, exposing one woven leather sandal. In a matter of seconds, without seeming to have hardly moved, he was standing in front of her, a few footsteps away.


Grammar is good, description is okay if a little long. Not much to crit except...where's the plot? This is more like a drabble, not that it's bad. ;)

Yours truly,

Kara
"The moral of this story, is that if I cause a stranger to choke to death for my amusement, what do you think I’ll do to you if you don’t tell me who ordered you to kill Colosimo?“

-Boardwalk Empire

Love, get out of my way.


Dulcinea: 2,500/50,000




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Basically, it wasn't supposed to have a plot. I was just capturing a picture and to describe a pic, it has to have too much detail almost. =P
Life is like a gravel road. In some parts it's smooth, but in others rough. Just when you think that life is pointless, it gets better. There is always hope.



I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.
— Edgar Allan Poe