Creative Writing Homework

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Creative Writing Homework

Post by Parallel Pain on 2008-07-24, 19:34

It was a fine day. The sun was high. It wasn’t a cloudless day. No. There were clouds in the sky, alright. They say a cloudless blue sky is beautiful, but I say watching the streaks of white puffs floating about is far more relaxing. The ocean breeze blowing inland chilled the hot summer day. Even up on the hills where I live you can almost smell the salty water just like you could on the beach. It was the perfect day for a drive, so I did just that. I got into the car, turned the key, pressed the pedal, and raced down the hill into the city.
On days like this it’s always best to drive along the seaside highway and feel the breeze blowing against your face. So I headed in the direction of the beaches. However, it seems that many people had the same idea. Or maybe they are going to the beach to play instead of a drive. It was a long weekend and I could hardly blame them. After all, on days like this parents should take their kids outside; they’re all stuck at home nowadays glued to the television screen or computer screen or some new screen they invented and I haven’t heard about. So it was great seeing all the parents doing the right things and taking their children outside.
Unfortunately, they making the right choices meant I was stuck in traffic. And the only thing worse than getting stuck in traffic is getting stuck in traffic in a bustling city. In the hills at least there are trees to see, and even the occasional bald eagle. You can also hear the birds sing a song for you above the coughing engines and honking horns. By the sea there’s the ocean breeze. Even if you get stuck too long, there’s always the sunset and mango-coloured sea. But in the city there is nothing. No, that’s not true. There are lots of building all around you blocking the wind no matter from which direction it was blowing. You are, of course, not moving even a single inch, being stuck in traffic. In that still air, if the summer sun doesn’t fry you alive, you would suffocate on the engine exhaust.
So there I was stuck in traffic, getting burned alive. To add to my torture the cars beside me all had some of the loudest punk rocking playing at full blast. You can’t even hear the honking of the horns over them. If only one was playing, at least I could’ve tried to enjoy it. But I couldn’t catch a single melody when six or seven are mixed together. This is what I call annoying. I retracted the top of the car to shut out the noise. Better. I turned on the air conditioning. Good. I opened my CD case. It’s empty. I forgot I had lent it to a friend. Great. I am stuck in traffic without my own music. I turn on the radio. Another marketplace just got blown up in Iraq. I shut it off. Silence, or I wish it was, but the drone of punk rock was still very audible and my car is shaking from the base. Waiting. Bored. I reached into my jacket pocket for my cell phone – there’s nothing better for killing time than talking to your girlfriend. It was empty, and my cell phone was on the charger beside my bed. It was good not having to die from heat or made deaf by punk rock, but I came out here for a drive along the beach. I did not leave my peaceful house up in the hills to get stuck in traffic in this unordered city.
I looked at the clock in the car. It had been half an hour and I don’t know if I’d moved half a mile. At that rate I couldn’t even get to the beach for the sunset. “This is ridiculous. I looked around. There’s a large shopping square to my right, and right. Looks like a good place to relax and wait for this jam to disperse. It’s not the seaside drive, but iced coffee and a magazine would have been just as good. Anything would have been just as good under those circumstances, and the only thing between me and the iced coffee was the sidewalk, some bushes, and the parking lot. What other choice did I have? Certainly not waiting in the car.
I swung the steering wheel right and stepped down on the pedal, and just like that I was out of the traffic. Another right turn and I would have been in the parking lot. I could already taste the iced coffee. I stepped down hard on the pedal once more. Iced coffee. Iced coffee was all I could think about. A sudden red and silver streak across the front of my car brought me back from me iced-coffee dream. I slammed on the brake. A small jolt rocked the car. I felt my stomach turn. There goes my iced coffee.
But it was no time to be thinking about iced coffee. I pushed open the door and rushed out to find out what I had hit. A few metres in front of my car was a silver bicycle, slightly bent from the impact, but otherwise looked fine. I looked around for the rider, but couldn’t find him. I was beginning to panic. I tried to calm myself down. I tried to think. 911. Ambulance. I rushed into the coffee shop. The entire store was looking at me. I saw a waitress. “Call the ambulance.”
With that I turned my back to the people scrambling for their cell phones and rushed back outside. As I opened the door I heard a girl crying. It was loud. I turned towards the sound and saw the girl I had rammed with my car. There were a few leaves on her hair here and there. She must have fallen into the bushes. That explains why I didn’t see her. I ran up to her. She was an Asian girl in her mid-teens. Her tears were beginning to dye black spots on her red T-shirt. “Are you all right?” She shook her head and kept on crying. “Are you hurt anywhere?” She kept shaking her head and kept crying. “I told the coffee shop over there to phone 911,” I tried to explain.
“They’ll be here in a moment.” She nodded, still crying. Her nerves had broke and her tears were breaking mine. I cursed my luck. “Can you phone your parents?” She shook her head, still crying. Then she took out her cell phone and dialled a number. She was phoning someone, but not her parents. Whoever it was, he picked up. The girl started talking in some Asian language. I didn’t understand. What was she telling him?
A few people had gotten out the store. They ran up to us, trying to help. The girl was still crying. Where is she hurt? “Where are you hurt?” I asked again. She shook her head again. She looked fine, but she kept crying. I couldn’t get a single word out of her except those in some Asian language she was saying to the phone. Oh God what am I going to do? What if her parents were some big corporate CEO and she actually suffered internal injuries? Where is that ambulance?
Then I heard the sirens. I let out a sigh of relieve. Good, the ambulance has arrived. It turned into the shopping square and stopped in front of the coffee shop. The paramedics got out. They opened the back door and got out a stretcher. Good. Lying down is good for calming down. They started rushing towards us. I walked towards them, planning to explain what happened. A few of the customers followed.
Before any one of us could speak one of the paramedics rushed up to me. “Come on, sir, I’ll help you onto the stretcher.” Before I could understand what he was saying he had thrown his arm under my shoulder and was trying to support me.
“No, no it’s not me.” I tried to explain. “I’m not the one hurt.”
Behind my back I could hear the girl yelling. “No! No! It’s me! It’s me!” I looked at the paramedics’ confused face. Some of the customers around me started laughing. The paramedics let go of me and rushed towards the crying girl. I started laughing as well.
They took her for a few checkups in the hospital, and I followed. It turned out she was completely all right. Instead of the seaside drive I wanted that day, I got a good scare, a good laugh, and a joke to tell all my friends.
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Re: Creative Writing Homework

Post by Tombles on 2008-07-25, 13:36

There's one or two places where you slip into present tense, which jars a bit. Aside from that, good.

pig
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Re: Creative Writing Homework

Post by The Weaver on 2008-07-25, 17:02

Good detail, pp. I wish half my students could write as well as this.

Re the ending:

"Instead of the seaside drive I wanted that day, I got a good scare, a good laugh, and a joke to tell all my friends."

If this is real homework that you haven't handed in yet, your teacher might think that it's a bit abrupt. Just a thought. Cheers.
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Re: Creative Writing Homework

Post by Parallel Pain on 2008-07-25, 22:37

actually it sort of feels abrupt but I had only 2minutes left to type and couldn't think of anything else

my teacher said it was abrupt too
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Re: Creative Writing Homework

Post by The Weaver on 2008-07-26, 00:41

Perhaps you could add a sentence: "And I got her number." Smile


Last edited by The Weaver on 2008-07-26, 04:10; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Spelling!)
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