January 10, 2009
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I sat on my knees on my clumsy, old bed and opened the curtains. The scene beyond was breathtaking. I watched a snowman shed from heaven above and paint this remarkable scenery. I rested my elbows on the cold, badly painted window sill and watched the scene of freedom. Each snowflake fell ever so lightly, like a feather from a bird's wing. The delightful snowflakes hit against my window and melted in a quick second. The road was quiet, street lights on with one flicking. Everything was being buried by small pieces of punched holed paper. The scene was intense, mysterious and wonderful at the same time. Suddenly, a strum of a guitar sounded and the whole scene started pushed away and turned into a rock concert.

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poopsitslivia [= said...
Mar. 14, 2009 at 1:16 am
i love how it says about a quiet street when you dont live on a quiet street
and also,
when it talks about in the beginning all quiet and calming sceanary and than ITS A ROCK CONCERT =)
Emily V. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 22, 2009 at 12:57 am
I like the imagery and the descriptivness that you used; it painted a picture in my mind of what was going on!!!
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