I've wrote it for English GCSE because in the Language exam you are set 45 minutes, in our case, to write a descriptive piece of writing.
It should be short and engaging. I am awaiting my teacher's verdict but I quite liked what I written so I thought I'd share this! This was written under timed conditions:
A Journey by Train
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10pm, nightfall. I heard the screech of the iron wheels; the door opened, "All aboard!". This was it. Smash! It shut, conceiling me.
Scuffling through the empty seats, I sat down, placed my briefcase on the floor and dismantled my long, draped coat as it ruffled to a deadly silence. He was in sight.
Nervously, I wiped clean the smudge on my monacle and took the pristine photo to hand. An exact match.
The hopeful lights flickered as if God had his doubts. The train built up speed; consequently the windows shuddered and screamed. It was inevitable.
His devious ways is what brought me here. His shaved head wouldn't feel the cold. The dilapidated material on his trainers, the dark brooding hood handing and the stained, ripped nylon trousers all spoke 'danger'.
Duplicitously, I smiled at the ticket collector, knowledgeable of my responsibility. A constant nausea was my way of describing it. The train spiralling into oblivion. I looked through the fretworked windows, observing the nightlit scenery whilst I was left in my regretful situation.
It was all becoming clear now; darkness closing in. My twitching eyes observed the torture of the lighting as my sweat was melting me. The screeching of the train, the shivering of the windows were all trying to tell me something.
Yet I was oblivious that his seat was empty and his revolver: point blanc...
(If you actually read it all, well done - please tell me what you think).
It should be short and engaging. I am awaiting my teacher's verdict but I quite liked what I written so I thought I'd share this! This was written under timed conditions:
A Journey by Train
--------------------------------------
10pm, nightfall. I heard the screech of the iron wheels; the door opened, "All aboard!". This was it. Smash! It shut, conceiling me.
Scuffling through the empty seats, I sat down, placed my briefcase on the floor and dismantled my long, draped coat as it ruffled to a deadly silence. He was in sight.
Nervously, I wiped clean the smudge on my monacle and took the pristine photo to hand. An exact match.
The hopeful lights flickered as if God had his doubts. The train built up speed; consequently the windows shuddered and screamed. It was inevitable.
His devious ways is what brought me here. His shaved head wouldn't feel the cold. The dilapidated material on his trainers, the dark brooding hood handing and the stained, ripped nylon trousers all spoke 'danger'.
Duplicitously, I smiled at the ticket collector, knowledgeable of my responsibility. A constant nausea was my way of describing it. The train spiralling into oblivion. I looked through the fretworked windows, observing the nightlit scenery whilst I was left in my regretful situation.
It was all becoming clear now; darkness closing in. My twitching eyes observed the torture of the lighting as my sweat was melting me. The screeching of the train, the shivering of the windows were all trying to tell me something.
Yet I was oblivious that his seat was empty and his revolver: point blanc...
(If you actually read it all, well done - please tell me what you think).