After checking under SF Documents, reading the Objective Correlative Writing Assignment, and typing the assignment; please copy and paste your Word document on the blog.
The bus approaches through the grey sleet of rain. The yellow color of it has faded to a shade resembling beer vomit. I turn to examine the people surrounding me at the bus stop. Their expressions resemble computer monitors, emotionless and dull. When the doors to the bus open they reveal a grotesquely fat man sitting at the wheel. His tangled beard does little to disguise the greasy chins hiding behind it. The flatulence that consistently escapes from him can only be compared to the sound of a wet t-shirt being slapped against wet mud. The floor leading to the back of the bus is sticky with a collage of colored substances. The seat, which I have decided to occupy, stands adjacent to the emergency exit. Over the sound of the engine I can hear the bus occupants gasping. The pungent mixture of gases that passes for air lays heavy with sweat upon our heads. I attempt to open the window, but grime and mineral buildup has sealed it shut. Now I must wait as this archaic metallic hunk creeps toward the next station, stopping even if there is nobody standing there. I reach into the inner pocket of my briefcase to retrieve the letter given to me by my boss before leaving work today. It edge are crumpled and soggy, like cereal left in a bowl of milk too long. I have reread the message many times at the bus stop and each time the message stays the same. A great tragedy has befallen me.
I blinked my eyes furiously and vigorously rubbed them. Starting from the inside, rotate clockwise squeezing the eyelid together. This is not happening. I close my eyes again, and hold them until they refuse to stay shut anymore. It seems like eternity. I open my eyes and the scene in front of me is still there. Breathe. I slowly back into the bench, which is waiting there to catch my fall. Sitting down seems to help a little. My face tingles and feels as if it is being shaken. I place my hands together, interlocking each finger. My palms are clammy and sweaty. My eyes fall shut. I open them and notice that my cheeks and eyes have been soaked with an overload of my tears. Looking ahead at the street, it’s blurry and all the yellow dash marks appear as if they are all mixed together. I hear the sounds of normal morning traffic. A mob of cars rush past me, all heading separate directions. I hear the persistent bird chirping behind me and pray it will stop. The pungent smell of gasoline from the bus stalled across the street aggravates me. I am angry. Clinching my fists tightly shut, I feel myself heating up. My breathing speeds up. I cannot believe this has happened. The scene in front of me has to be a dream, it has to be. The tag still hanging on my newly purchased shirt tickles my back and I have a sudden urge to violently rip it off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my wife approaching me. Her shoulders hang low and her clothes are stained with the marks from her tears. My head falls into my hands, as I see my world completely turned upside down.
My stomach is tied into a complicated pretzel, leaving no ends to undo my severe pain. My eyes feel heavy like a fifty-pound weight, drooping me to the gum infested ground. A few minutes ago, I admired life- the sun was shining on the running bodies playing tag across the street, the breeze was flowing through pedestrians hair as they walked by, and I was planning our yearly camping trip. Suddenly, I hear "little red corvette" play through my pocket. I laugh. I forgot he changed my ringtone to our favorite song. Bright colors quickly fade into darkness and blur. Screeching and breathing pierce the inner region my ears. Saliva and salty tears blind my vision to a mixture of gray and black paint. The sharp stench of blood compels my nostrils to flare, forcing me to inhale my tragedy. Every inch of my body pounds as my heart beats through my chest. My clothes begin to itch like ants crawling on my skin. I felt the presence of something warm surround my body. I could not tell if it was people or not. All I can see is his ocean blue eyes in the rough of this gray haze. His toothy smile which flipped a bad day to a special day. His deep scratches on his legs from when we went quail hunting last October. My body begins to shiver frantically. I hear voices, “sir are you okay?” “do you need an ambulance.” All I can say is “why?”
The morning sun resided behind a mass of quickly moving clouds and shade took over the previously sunny city. Pedestrians cross the streets moving one foot in front of the other over the cracked and dry sidewalks, gliding along emotionlessly. The translucent plastic bus stop feels like it is closing in on me. The people sitting next to me seem to disappear and I feel more alone than I ever have before. A heavy rush runs throughout my body, starting in my head moving down to each and every finger and toe. The cement beneath my shoes feels cold. I sit with a blank stare and a blank mind. There is no thought or word big or small enough to occupy my thoughts. I watch the cars, bikers, and buses go by but I can’t hear any sound, just a light ringing in my ears. Small gusts of air brush by my nose and I can smell the dirty air pollution and garbage that sits in the dumpster behind me. My bus has come, but I am unable to bring myself to my feet. The bus leaves and I now sit alone. The sun is still covered by the clouds, and they don’t appear to be moving anytime soon.
As I approach the bus stop, the world seems to get dimmer and slower as I feels my heart slow down to the second. Slowly, I look around the dark lit street down the road of this gloomy bus stop that only brought sadness to whoever gave a look at it. Sounds of screaming people getting mugged a mile away could be heard as if they were a mere meter away from the man. The stench of skunk filled the bus stop every few seconds as the blood in his body began to rise to his head. Every time a second passes he feels weaker as he attempts to reach the bus that slowly seems to come towards him. His clothes feel like a hot piece of leather heating up under the big, glowing sun in his face that brings more humidity that makes him drench like no other man had drenched before. All wet, he reaches into his shirt pocket to reach out for a pen and try to write down his agenda for the day. Nevertheless, he gets on the bus, but sees no one on it and the driver was more silent than ever. Strangely, he touched the driver and gave him a grin, but the driver failed to look back. The seat he sat in got damp quickly has he realized he had urinated himself at some point during the ride. I sat back and could not bear to realize what had just happened in my life.
The sun is shining high in the sky, but not light seeps through. His mental image of the gray sky looms low over the horizon leaving a dark stain of dreariness in the area. The air crushes souls under its insupportable weight. Nothing moves in this lifeless zone of sorrow. The world creeps along at the pace of turtles, leaving people to reflect on the hand of misery they have been dealt by the Great Master of cards. The Earth no longer spun, it just remained frozen in a cold oblivion. The only things that could be seen were the dark gloss of crows swooping down to verify the horridness of this place. The ground below sank into abyss of darkness, but even being swallowed whole would be better than the melancholy place that was currently present. Life was nothing. Happiness was nothing. Yearning for liberation, the trees sway slowly trying to find a hole to slip through into a better place, but to no avail. They flail in the sheer pressure of darkness, similar to the souls of human beings trapped in this unholy place. Prayers were looking for a miracle, for not even they could slip through the cracks of this evil net into the heavens. Suffering was all there was.
Sitting at the bus stop waiting for that dreaded long bus ride home. The trees were still, but the wind was blowing. Nothing was moving and I can’t see anything else around me within my horizons. Just the empty streets, the motionless trees and bushes, and concrete everywhere. The leaves seemed to be loosing its colors. Everything started to look dull and washed away. I couldn’t hear the birds singing, I couldn’t hear the leaves rustling, and I couldn’t hear the happiness of the world happening. All I could hear was my smooth breath as I breathed in and out. I fell cold even though I have several layers of clothes on. I take one last look around and everything has now lost its color. No greens, no blue, no reds, only black and white. Then everything went blurry and I had to close my eyes right before it started to feel like it was raining.
The man at the bus stop, still sitting patiently, began to withdraw himself as the seconds continued flying past. The messenger to his left began to fade away. First his fingernails began to blend in with the monotone concrete. Next his hands, followed by his arms, and the dreary grey soon consumed him until he simply did not exist. He turned to find the messenger, hoping that he would return. The man was alone. The edges of the decrepit poster flaked towards him, but they hung there in vain, unable to reach the frail man. The bumps in the concrete seemed to reach out as well, but their feeble attempts to comfort the lonely man were dismissed, unnoticed.
A faint but musty smell transpired from down the street, filling the man’s nostrils and suffocating the hairs inside. The man coughed once a regained his nose, as the smell continued to travel down the street. With the absence of the smell, he began to notice the emptiness in the air. There were no sounds to pierce the atmosphere around him, nor was there any movement. The wind had died down and the bus stop became barren. Save for one man alone in his thoughts.
The bus approaches through the grey sleet of rain. The yellow color of it has faded to a shade resembling beer vomit. I turn to examine the people surrounding me at the bus stop. Their expressions resemble computer monitors, emotionless and dull. When the doors to the bus open they reveal a grotesquely fat man sitting at the wheel. His tangled beard does little to disguise the greasy chins hiding behind it. The flatulence that consistently escapes from him can only be compared to the sound of a wet t-shirt being slapped against wet mud. The floor leading to the back of the bus is sticky with a collage of colored substances. The seat, which I have decided to occupy, stands adjacent to the emergency exit. Over the sound of the engine I can hear the bus occupants gasping. The pungent mixture of gases that passes for air lays heavy with sweat upon our heads. I attempt to open the window, but grime and mineral buildup has sealed it shut. Now I must wait as this archaic metallic hunk creeps toward the next station, stopping even if there is nobody standing there. I reach into the inner pocket of my briefcase to retrieve the letter given to me by my boss before leaving work today. It edge are crumpled and soggy, like cereal left in a bowl of milk too long. I have reread the message many times at the bus stop and each time the message stays the same. A great tragedy has befallen me.
ReplyDeleteDB
I blinked my eyes furiously and vigorously rubbed them. Starting from the inside, rotate clockwise squeezing the eyelid together. This is not happening. I close my eyes again, and hold them until they refuse to stay shut anymore. It seems like eternity. I open my eyes and the scene in front of me is still there. Breathe. I slowly back into the bench, which is waiting there to catch my fall. Sitting down seems to help a little. My face tingles and feels as if it is being shaken. I place my hands together, interlocking each finger. My palms are clammy and sweaty. My eyes fall shut.
ReplyDeleteI open them and notice that my cheeks and eyes have been soaked with an overload of my tears. Looking ahead at the street, it’s blurry and all the yellow dash marks appear as if they are all mixed together. I hear the sounds of normal morning traffic. A mob of cars rush past me, all heading separate directions. I hear the persistent bird chirping behind me and pray it will stop. The pungent smell of gasoline from the bus stalled across the street aggravates me.
I am angry. Clinching my fists tightly shut, I feel myself heating up. My breathing speeds up. I cannot believe this has happened. The scene in front of me has to be a dream, it has to be.
The tag still hanging on my newly purchased shirt tickles my back and I have a sudden urge to violently rip it off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my wife approaching me. Her shoulders hang low and her clothes are stained with the marks from her tears. My head falls into my hands, as I see my world completely turned upside down.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMy stomach is tied into a complicated pretzel, leaving no ends to undo my severe pain. My eyes feel heavy like a fifty-pound weight, drooping me to the gum infested ground. A few minutes ago, I admired life- the sun was shining on the running bodies playing tag across the street, the breeze was flowing through pedestrians hair as they walked by, and I was planning our yearly camping trip. Suddenly, I hear "little red corvette" play through my pocket. I laugh. I forgot he changed my ringtone to our favorite song.
ReplyDeleteBright colors quickly fade into darkness and blur. Screeching and breathing pierce the inner region my ears. Saliva and salty tears blind my vision to a mixture of gray and black paint. The sharp stench of blood compels my nostrils to flare, forcing me to inhale my tragedy. Every inch of my body pounds as my heart beats through my chest. My clothes begin to itch like ants crawling on my skin. I felt the presence of something warm surround my body. I could not tell if it was people or not. All I can see is his ocean blue eyes in the rough of this gray haze. His toothy smile which flipped a bad day to a special day. His deep scratches on his legs from when we went quail hunting last October. My body begins to shiver frantically. I hear voices, “sir are you okay?” “do you need an ambulance.” All I can say is “why?”
NG
All three passages are excellent examples. Dan, I'm not sure that yours follows the prompt, but it's a great piece of sensory imagery. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThe morning sun resided behind a mass of quickly moving clouds and shade took over the previously sunny city. Pedestrians cross the streets moving one foot in front of the other over the cracked and dry sidewalks, gliding along emotionlessly. The translucent plastic bus stop feels like it is closing in on me. The people sitting next to me seem to disappear and I feel more alone than I ever have before. A heavy rush runs throughout my body, starting in my head moving down to each and every finger and toe. The cement beneath my shoes feels cold. I sit with a blank stare and a blank mind. There is no thought or word big or small enough to occupy my thoughts. I watch the cars, bikers, and buses go by but I can’t hear any sound, just a light ringing in my ears. Small gusts of air brush by my nose and I can smell the dirty air pollution and garbage that sits in the dumpster behind me. My bus has come, but I am unable to bring myself to my feet. The bus leaves and I now sit alone. The sun is still covered by the clouds, and they don’t appear to be moving anytime soon.
ReplyDeleteAs I approach the bus stop, the world seems to get dimmer and slower as I feels my heart slow down to the second. Slowly, I look around the dark lit street down the road of this gloomy bus stop that only brought sadness to whoever gave a look at it. Sounds of screaming people getting mugged a mile away could be heard as if they were a mere meter away from the man. The stench of skunk filled the bus stop every few seconds as the blood in his body began to rise to his head. Every time a second passes he feels weaker as he attempts to reach the bus that slowly seems to come towards him. His clothes feel like a hot piece of leather heating up under the big, glowing sun in his face that brings more humidity that makes him drench like no other man had drenched before. All wet, he reaches into his shirt pocket to reach out for a pen and try to write down his agenda for the day. Nevertheless, he gets on the bus, but sees no one on it and the driver was more silent than ever. Strangely, he touched the driver and gave him a grin, but the driver failed to look back. The seat he sat in got damp quickly has he realized he had urinated himself at some point during the ride. I sat back and could not bear to realize what had just happened in my life.
ReplyDeleteThe sun is shining high in the sky, but not light seeps through. His mental image of the gray sky looms low over the horizon leaving a dark stain of dreariness in the area. The air crushes souls under its insupportable weight. Nothing moves in this lifeless zone of sorrow. The world creeps along at the pace of turtles, leaving people to reflect on the hand of misery they have been dealt by the Great Master of cards. The Earth no longer spun, it just remained frozen in a cold oblivion. The only things that could be seen were the dark gloss of crows swooping down to verify the horridness of this place.
ReplyDeleteThe ground below sank into abyss of darkness, but even being swallowed whole would be better than the melancholy place that was currently present. Life was nothing. Happiness was nothing. Yearning for liberation, the trees sway slowly trying to find a hole to slip through into a better place, but to no avail. They flail in the sheer pressure of darkness, similar to the souls of human beings trapped in this unholy place. Prayers were looking for a miracle, for not even they could slip through the cracks of this evil net into the heavens. Suffering was all there was.
Sitting at the bus stop waiting for that dreaded long bus ride home. The trees were still, but the wind was blowing. Nothing was moving and I can’t see anything else around me within my horizons. Just the empty streets, the motionless trees and bushes, and concrete everywhere. The leaves seemed to be loosing its colors. Everything started to look dull and washed away. I couldn’t hear the birds singing, I couldn’t hear the leaves rustling, and I couldn’t hear the happiness of the world happening. All I could hear was my smooth breath as I breathed in and out. I fell cold even though I have several layers of clothes on. I take one last look around and everything has now lost its color. No greens, no blue, no reds, only black and white. Then everything went blurry and I had to close my eyes right before it started to feel like it was raining.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe man at the bus stop, still sitting patiently, began to withdraw himself as the seconds continued flying past. The messenger to his left began to fade away. First his fingernails began to blend in with the monotone concrete. Next his hands, followed by his arms, and the dreary grey soon consumed him until he simply did not exist. He turned to find the messenger, hoping that he would return. The man was alone. The edges of the decrepit poster flaked towards him, but they hung there in vain, unable to reach the frail man. The bumps in the concrete seemed to reach out as well, but their feeble attempts to comfort the lonely man were dismissed, unnoticed.
ReplyDeleteA faint but musty smell transpired from down the street, filling the man’s nostrils and suffocating the hairs inside. The man coughed once a regained his nose, as the smell continued to travel down the street. With the absence of the smell, he began to notice the emptiness in the air. There were no sounds to pierce the atmosphere around him, nor was there any movement. The wind had died down and the bus stop became barren. Save for one man alone in his thoughts.