Original Writing: Hidden
Title: Hidden
Rating: G
Summary: an exercise from my creative writing class. We were supposed to describe a place using only one sense. I chose sight.
A/N: This is my own original work so please don't steal.
It’s a place hidden by the trees. The sun doesn’t reach the floor as you walk through and the darkness is thick. You can see the leaves falling like rain as you walk along. There’s almost no sense of time, only that it takes forever to reach where you’re going.
The first hint of arrival is a glow in the distance. You walk towards it, praying for it to be the sun. It’s hard to believe you’ve been without it for so long. The branches of pine and maple, but mostly pine, criss-cross in odd angles in front of you. The thin branches are like spider webs, they’re so many of them. You push them aside and struggle through. You stumble and you fall, but still you fight on. Because you know it’s worth it. It has always been worth it.
Suddenly you’re blinded. It’s so much brighter here than it was in the dark forest behind you. Your eyes adjust and it’s beautiful. It’s only a break in the trees, a break from the bleak monotony of tree after tree after tree. There’s a small brook and it’s lined by small pebbles that glisten under the sunlight and the water. Moss is abundant in so many shades of green. Emerald shifts in a gradient to sage to almost turquoise. You can see the tiniest details on the boulders that run alongside the brook.
Experimentally, you pour water from the brook on a boulder. It trickles slowly down before it hits a crevice. Then it races, tumbling over itself in its hurry to get to the bottom. The sun reflects off the trail the droplets leave behind, almost blinding you again. You have to look away and take in the rest of the glen.
There’s a flower, all by itself. It’s a deep blue at the center, radiating out until it’s so pale a blue it’s almost white. The seeds in the center spiral around each other and you can see the pollen clinging to them. You blow on it and the pollen flies off on the wind. It only takes a few inches before you can’t see it anymore.
As you stand up again you accidently knock over a pile of small stones. They topple over and one by one fall into the brook. As they hit the water you can see the water move and bend around them before sucking them under, completely and mercilessly unforgiving. The stones join the rest of their brethren unlucky enough to dive into the shallow water; like bodies in a grave, they just lie there.
Rating: G
Summary: an exercise from my creative writing class. We were supposed to describe a place using only one sense. I chose sight.
A/N: This is my own original work so please don't steal.
It’s a place hidden by the trees. The sun doesn’t reach the floor as you walk through and the darkness is thick. You can see the leaves falling like rain as you walk along. There’s almost no sense of time, only that it takes forever to reach where you’re going.
The first hint of arrival is a glow in the distance. You walk towards it, praying for it to be the sun. It’s hard to believe you’ve been without it for so long. The branches of pine and maple, but mostly pine, criss-cross in odd angles in front of you. The thin branches are like spider webs, they’re so many of them. You push them aside and struggle through. You stumble and you fall, but still you fight on. Because you know it’s worth it. It has always been worth it.
Suddenly you’re blinded. It’s so much brighter here than it was in the dark forest behind you. Your eyes adjust and it’s beautiful. It’s only a break in the trees, a break from the bleak monotony of tree after tree after tree. There’s a small brook and it’s lined by small pebbles that glisten under the sunlight and the water. Moss is abundant in so many shades of green. Emerald shifts in a gradient to sage to almost turquoise. You can see the tiniest details on the boulders that run alongside the brook.
Experimentally, you pour water from the brook on a boulder. It trickles slowly down before it hits a crevice. Then it races, tumbling over itself in its hurry to get to the bottom. The sun reflects off the trail the droplets leave behind, almost blinding you again. You have to look away and take in the rest of the glen.
There’s a flower, all by itself. It’s a deep blue at the center, radiating out until it’s so pale a blue it’s almost white. The seeds in the center spiral around each other and you can see the pollen clinging to them. You blow on it and the pollen flies off on the wind. It only takes a few inches before you can’t see it anymore.
As you stand up again you accidently knock over a pile of small stones. They topple over and one by one fall into the brook. As they hit the water you can see the water move and bend around them before sucking them under, completely and mercilessly unforgiving. The stones join the rest of their brethren unlucky enough to dive into the shallow water; like bodies in a grave, they just lie there.