Descriptive Writing

The Florescent orange lights were populated with the flying insects, stretching their patterned wings as if reaching for freedom, but always becoming a stretch further away. The moths admired the bright flickering of light as they all stared, hypnotised by the artificial illusion of freedom. The light lit the dark void of water below whilst an old dusty boot, clumsily splashed through the puddle, paying no attention to the beauty it destroyed. The path of Destruction continued as the boot created a distinctive print into the, once, natural pavement. The shadow drew further and further into the dark, ignoring all the innocent plants, lying dead on the ground, crushed by the ignorance of a man’s power.

The street couldn’t help but fell empty, the missing element of natural life lurked over the street, like a ghost from its past. The pure shimmering of light from the untouched bowels of darkness tried to fight the wreck humanity had created but it was too late. No one could save the unnatural world from the chaos that lay on planet earth.

Listen Closely. Do you hear the unconscious thoughts? Spreading from house to house like a pathogen infecting the body. Do you hear the silence? Silence of the policemen, silence of the shopkeeper, criminal, citizen, and teacher. The sound passes through time until every ding! And every Beep! Floods into the streets.  Listen closer. Do you now hear the concious thoughts parade through the bright street of life.

” Come n’ get your fresh fruit!”     “Juicy strawberry’s, 2 for £2!”                                                                                                             The enthusiastic seller yelled at the top his voice. He wore dark overalls, which had seen better days but the dust didn’t bother the joyful seller as he tried to make a living. It was the most natural part everyone’s day. Life’s one beautiful cycle, where once again, the great ball of fire would fill every dark void, putting our artificial bulbs to shame.

There two sides to every coin, two opposite sides. There are two sides to every street. The current side bounced up and down ready for anything. Some waited. You could see every eye stare and the colours of yet again more lights. The Red tinge to the light was not enough for them. They just waited… and waited. The red glow reflected onto a shiny bonnet of an expensive car. If you looked closely you would see the rays of pride emitting from all angles onto the car. But when you looked inside you would see the man filled with nothing but shame. He tapped the wheel of the newly polished car. “Tap Tap” He waited and waited. “Tap Tap” His eyes began to go into a trance looking deeply into the soul of the red tinged light. “Tap Tap Tap”. His designer office shoe pushed deep into the pedal as a different, orange tinged light was shown. Another strange cycle which occurred on the slabs of road and pavement, which people, pathetically, call a street.

Are you waiting? Waiting for light to change green? Waiting for someone to give you your next command? Waiting for life’s cycle to run its course? The street was filled with waiters but the kind to serve you food, although these too just wait and wait. For the next order. For their next shift. For a better job to come their way. These people circulated around the street, living less productive lives than the moths on the artificial lights.