Hello everybody! A while back I did a creative writing post. I really enjoyed typing it up, and I had quite a bit of good feed back from friends and family (and apart from a few spalling mistakes...!) I was very pleased with it. We recently had a creative writing assessment, so today I thought I would share my story with you! P.S ( I got a 6b for this work, if you were wondering!) If you do like reading this sort of thing, please do comment down below, and I could always do it on more of a regular basis. I also hope that you have all had the best week, where ever you are.
A wintery London
I was met at the door with an icy wind. It whistled through the bare tree branches and brought with it few, cold snowflakes, on this very early, very frosty morning in December, in the run up to Christmas. A thick blanket of snow sits perfectly on the iconic red letter boxes, full to the brim with colourful and creative cards and letters, off on their own adventure to friends, family, and the man himself Father Christmas. Frosted grasses carpet the park as far as I can see. I feel my paws wet and soggy, as I playfully jump around peoples feet.The sky is deep and cold, with pink clouds of candy floss. It really is a beautiful day, so clear and crisp, and well....'Christmassy!'
Quietly, glassy snowflakes fall around me. Showing off their own, individual, intricate designs.I trail behind, following my lead.Street after street, until we reach Southbank, the river, and the market. A warm smell of roasting chestnuts reaches my nose. Around me, the overwhelming scent of Christmas pines, and the spicey wine mulling in the little cafes. It's busy.Crowded ice rinks, high up trees, and even more people towering over me. Inbetweem them, quirky shops selling delicate tree decorations and golden jingle bells too, full of customers.
Bustling and moving.In all directions the traffic of people, Stoping and starting.Making their way through the emptying wintery roads.Floods of tired shoppers passes in waves. The tallest buildings of London seem to smile, and look down at me, and make me feel at home, feel, so so happy.And nothing could change that. Even now, when the daylight has faded, the glittering London skyline, lights up, as bright as the moon and stars it opens up to. We pass Harrods, sparkling and immaculate as ever. Then the pride of Regent street. Liberties. But once they're gone, there are no lights. Only the street lamps, giving off their own, dim , white light.
The streets now lonely. We're home again. The same, icy, wintery wind, that whistles through the tree tops. The same frosted grasses. The same beautiful day. Beyond all the rest of the houses, at the very far end of the street, is mine. A large, mistletoe wreath, is hung on the cream coloured door. It's finished extravagantly with a deep burgundy velvet bow. Inside, a warm, bright fireplace with two faux fur and red tartan stockings, hanging from the mantle peice. Sweet peppermint candles glowing, dotted around the house in-between strings of fairy lights, and tinsel of golds and reds. In the kitchen, a rich scent of freshly baked gingerbread and thick vanilla frosting. Only reminding me of my hunger, causing my stomach to let out a loud, awkward rumble. No one hears. With a steaming mug of tea, she, (my owner) sits me snug on her lap. I say there, nestled in layers of fleece blankets for the evening, christmas films playing, happy as can be.
Hope you enjoyed XOXO