Her is my piece!
Mist is shattered around, filling the sky with sadness. Tired, the elderly woman hikes up the dirt covered immense hill. Feeling mysterious taps on her shoulder, every 5th step she took.
Painfully, she slips, stabbing her chest right into her walking stick. “HELP!” she screeches, with pain. Her chest throbbed and her chest pounds out of her skin. But little does she know, know one can hear her in the middle of nowhere.
Suddenly, a strange little figure walked towards her, like he was a lost dog looking for his owner . Then she noticed, he had a dent in his head, a bleeding hand dangling off his glitchy arm, and a shiny sharp object that was as shiny as a polished diamond. It was covered in never ending dripping blood.
What do you think of my writing? Can you spot the metaphors?
BLOG YA LATER!
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