Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Writing Assessment

The Sun was out, but the cool breeze deflated most of it’s warmth.  It was a quiet place with peaceful surroundings, only the lazy sound of sloshing waves lapping against the wharf.

The wharf looked more like a bridge or should I say a footpath, (a extraordinary one of course) with crooked planks laid down in scruffy hurried position looking up with a sort of aching expression longing to it’s bones bent straight again as they had once been.  The path stretched out with a straight purpose till it split into two branches like of a tree, leading to a description of a group houses but as I said it’s another description, another description that’ll have to wait till another time.

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