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The girls in the crinkled photograph smiled warmly, yet mockingly, up at me. The younger one’s choppy red hair fell limply around her shoulders, but her bright blue eyes reflected the midday sunlight. The older one’s facial features were like those of her sister, and her long yellow-gold hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes, while similar to her sibling’s, were darker, deeper. She was dawn – a golden sun rising out of icy blue sky, while her sister resembled a breath-taking pinkish orange sunset, promising a new day as long as you made it through the night. With just a glance at the picture, you could tell that their personalities were miles apart from each other. I turned the picture over, and on the back it said “1993 – Libby, 5 and Nathalie, 9.” I pulled myself away from the past and moved on to the other pictures in the heap in front of me. Dozens of family friends and long lost relatives dominated the pile, but I managed to pull out a few pictures of those same two girls. In one, a seven-year-old Libby was in a green and white soccer uniform, her sun-streaked hair plastered to her face with sweat, holding up a shiny plastic-gold trophy in triumph.
That's the cut off...it's my very first piece, actually. I entered it for a reflections contest and won for my county, so there's got to be something okay about it. It doesn't make much sense without the rest of it, so let me know if you'd like a copy of it through email.
[This message has been edited by exxodus (edited January 13, 2005).]
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I’ll lend my opinion too, if it’s a short story. I already see a few pet peeves, no-no’s I’ve learned of elsewhere and am trying to incorporate in my own writing, like use of adjectives, passive verbs, use of first person, and even something more elusive, how to build a logical succession of facts and images that create a compelling read. I can’t say I’ve mastered all of this yet, but if you don’t mind me nitpicking in the most positive way I can find, send it along.
Posts: 98 | Registered: Oct 2004
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