Aldersley Park Creative Writing

Jackie and I were now halfway to where Mike’s car wreck took place, on Highway 46. The accident must have been pretty bad because it was reported on the news, a rare case, I thought to myself. I prayed Mike was going to be ok. The drive felt like it was taking hours to get to the scene . I could feel the tension in the car growing. The fact that one of our closest friends could be gravely injured was a slug shot from a shotgun into our chests. Jackie was still distressed as she drove; tears dripped from her eyes like droplets from a cool water bottle on a hot day.

It was a blazing, sunny day in Lake Havasu City, Arizona reading a temperature of 120 degrees Fahrenheit out on the back patio. The hot air felt like the inside of an oven against a human being’s skin. As a Lake Havasu City native, little seven- year- old Scarlett Suzanne had no trouble at all swimming in the pool at such extremely sizzling temperatures. She would play for hours on end pretending she was Ariel from “The Little Mermaid” until her mother would have to drag her inside for supper. Although Scarlett was practically a fish in the water, she was not allowed to go outside unless her mother was home or was watching her.

We have been trying to move to a new home over the last few months and for one reason or another we just haven't been able to make this happen. Our close and move in date just kept getting pushed and this ended up interfering and postponing multiple trips. With Good Friday off, BeeGee and I just couldn’t handle this any more so we headed out Thursday evening.

I layed back, kicked my feet up, and looked up at the sun trying to break through the leaves of the enormous Oak trees. There is one place I always end up when I want to escape from the rest of the world: Pokagon State Park.

named Hollands Cove. Almost as if it were a secret the entrance to the community the roadway lies bare. A small dirt road with two fields on either side are backed by trees, small bushes, and a slight glimpse of a gray decaying haunted house. However during the early summer if you drudge through that field of tangled weeds you would find the bushes lined with juicy summer blackberries that stain your fingertips.

Staring up at the towering, glacier-covered mountain range, I felt impossibly small. My overflowing backpack dug into my shoulders and I bounced on my toes, eager to start hiking before the sun rose too far in the summer sky. Supplied with nothing but what we carried on our backs and in our minds, my family and I were about to backpack into the Alaskan wilderness for a week.

The weather was pleasant, with cloudless blue skies and the air heavy with birdsong along their route. Accompanying those who were being sent to assess the damage at the Salsolan Outpost had been a choice — the same way drinking when thirsty was a choice — and bringing her slave had been just another facet.

Carver’s use of diction throughout the poem helps to illustrate how we should live our life to the

My family moved from Garden Grove to La Habra at the end of first grade in order to be closer to our water store. It took me a while to adjust to my new school and every day I ended up talking to a new group of peers.

Logan airport is the last place I wanted to get stuck at. Its too close to home, to him.

Winnie sighed. She had been waiting for Mr. Scamander to come back for a few hours. The minute he had left, she started wandering around, looking at the beautiful, strange creatures around her. But she began to get bored. Not that anyone could get bored of these animals, each one was as fantastic as the one before. She was bored because she was a people person, and she had no one to talk to, unless you counted the jarvey, which Winnie certainly did not. So after a few minutes, she found her way back to the room she had originally fallen into. She sat right beside the ladder, glancing up every few minutes, hoping that he would come. She didn’t know how long it took to get to Saint-Pierre, but she imagined it couldn’t be longer than half a day.

After being shot, Jackson hides in a closed café. When he sees a gorgeous man enter the premises after the man’s cat screeched and woke him up, Jackson is smitten. Police sirens wail and Jackson morphs into his wolf form to escape.

Carver’s use of third person objective affects the story by helping his writing technique of extreme simplicity. Because we can’t see into any of the characters minds, less details are presented, leaving the story more plain. “‘I couldn’t wait’ he said. That night they made love again.” This quote shows Carver’s flat prose. There are an abundance of descriptive actions and dialogue

The author speaks of the shame of having the only outdoor toilet in the neighborhood, driving the oldest car in town but he also mentions the trips to Seattle they took as a family and how memorable that was for him. Carver had a complex relationship with his father that began with sharing the same name. Everyone is trying to find their own identity in life, For sons who are named after their fathers this seems to be a more difficult task.

The scent of burning nicotine mixes in with the bitter-sweet sound of silence that flows through my neighborhood. The murmurs of the 39 engine making its rounds of routine lateness is a usual as it flows down small Dauphin street and to much better-known areas of the city.