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6/3/2004 c1 ramonesclones
The washed out sun was leaving the sky. Following it, a grey and looming night that shadowed the local park with a polar breeze that rattled its trees, its wolfing whistle and the dried leaves clatter was the only noise echoing through the park. The lonesome teen, abandoned with his thoughts, looked a gaze into the limp and lifeless grass that slumped its way over the ground barely covering it; it too lay sunken of energy. Into the ice breeze the warm miasma from his illicit cigarette twirled, carrying with it tiny tuffs of his uneven mane. This scene carried on for a number of hours, a few exceptions to the occasional gasp to his cigarette, but apart from that he was a picturesque statue of teenage attention .
i like ur work, what do u think of mine, be brutal, it's there to be changed, and its only the beginning of the story.
10/18/2003 c1 Joflower
Yup, that pretty much says it all! :)

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