Post by emmaline sharp on Oct 29, 2016 10:50:17 GMT 10
i'm ready to run free
Mornings were a time of inspiration, the moment as the sun broke over the horizon, the moment life began to spark in a city. As people began their day, leaving their homes to head to work and to school in the later hours of the morning. Emmaline often found herself awake and staring out the window of her bedroom, pencil in hand, sketchbook open as she once again sketched out the familiar sceneries. Today, was different. School was starting again, and she wanted to do something different.
She put on her clothes, donned a light jacket, and grabbed all of her school things and her sketchbook before she slipped on her shoes and quietly exited her house. A small note was slid under the door before she locked it and ran out of the building. Her legs carried her to the park on the way to school, not caring for those who would notice her out and about at such an early hour. She found a bench, covered in the morning dew as was everything in the park. Instead of seating herself there, she found somewhere nearby where she could kneel nearby.
She rested the sketchbook upon her legs as sne began to sketch the blades of grass, covered in dew as they were, unputerbed by the life of the city around them. Soon, the drops would fall, or evaporate. They would be disturbed when someone walked through them, crushed beneath the weight of their feet and trampled all over again. But Emma caught them in this moment, untouched. So entranced in this, she hardly noticed that she may not have been alone anymore.
She put on her clothes, donned a light jacket, and grabbed all of her school things and her sketchbook before she slipped on her shoes and quietly exited her house. A small note was slid under the door before she locked it and ran out of the building. Her legs carried her to the park on the way to school, not caring for those who would notice her out and about at such an early hour. She found a bench, covered in the morning dew as was everything in the park. Instead of seating herself there, she found somewhere nearby where she could kneel nearby.
She rested the sketchbook upon her legs as sne began to sketch the blades of grass, covered in dew as they were, unputerbed by the life of the city around them. Soon, the drops would fall, or evaporate. They would be disturbed when someone walked through them, crushed beneath the weight of their feet and trampled all over again. But Emma caught them in this moment, untouched. So entranced in this, she hardly noticed that she may not have been alone anymore.
aeron at thq
