Creative Writing Assessment 1.4


The gravel below my bike makes a ‘crunch’ as I whiz into the car park. An enormous cloud of dust trails me as I park my bike, its charcoal black with slick green stripes that crawl up the sides. The wheels are grand yet worn out from the countless hours of riding. Gazing ahead I see a square building with a foul stench polluting the perfume of the air. A blue sign with a picture of two different stick figures is placed next to the doors of this architecture, this signifies that it’s a toilet. The doors are heavy and they slam when they shut. I decide that I don’t need to use this right now. Not to far ahead of me is a silver drinking fountain, upon looking at it my throat becomes as dry as a desert. I bend over and the cool waters infiltrate my throat and cleanses my mind. I am ready.

In front of me is a wooden gate that reaches up to the bottom of my rib cage, the winds blows it open slowly making a creak. I pass through it and I try to shut it but the rickety contraption gets stuck. The blazing sun blinds me as I turn the corner and my eyes squint. Towering over me is a tall piece of landscape that defines the land around me. The mountain has a steep incline that is abruptly discontinued by a ferocious cliff that hangs over the town. The cliff edges are razor-sharp daggers and the dirt on them is the blood from its victims. To my left is the wiry path that will lead me to the top of this elegant mountain. On the sides of the track matagouri populates the tranquil landscape. Tiny cinnamon coloured rabbits scurry up the steep slope.

When walking up a drop of sweat strokes the side of my face and my legs muscle ignite. My breathing starts to speed up. My hot body is refreshed by a cool blast of wind that throws my hair in the other direction. When I reach the top, I am presented with a beautiful township. The lake glistens like a diamond and the mountains opposing me stare down at this graceful community. The air tastes sweet and the wind yells into my delicate ears. The smell of shrubbery tickles my nose. Being here makes feel empowered. I am the king on his throne ready to face what ever challenge comes at me.


The harsh wind howls like a hungry dire wolf in the night. The eternal darkness consumes everything around me. I enter the same car park that I had once been before, I know it’s the same place but it feels like I’m in a different dimension. Ahead of me lies an ominous structure that strikes me with déjà vu. A single light brightens up the gloomy environment. The awful stench remains except it smells as if it was amplified. Next to the building is the same water fountain, it shimmers from the light being produced from the bathroom. The glassy water trickles onto the stainless steel bowl.

The soft wooden gate remains opens, it is missing a hinge and is dangling like a Christmas Ornament. Up in the sky is a lunar disco ball that shines upon me as if I was a god. Around the moon is an ocean of obsidian with stars that glisten. The angry wind tries to blow me off my feet but I stand strong, looking the mountain right in the eye. The mountain stares back hungrily as if it hadn’t eaten in millions of years, it wants to devour me. The bushes are ballet dancers performing a recital while the drum beat of rabbit feet complement their show. This once exquisite land form is now a monster ready to redefine what pain really is.

When walking up I am fueled with determination, it is controlling me like a parasite. My forehead is a waterfall of salt water and I wipe it away like rain on a windscreen. Standing on top I see the town lit up like a beacon, the cars are like fireflies that roam their tiny little kingdom. The lake looks endless like space and dark like death itself. The air remains sweet like a lollipop and the wind attacks me like I am a criminal. When I stand upon this mountain I wonder, did I conquer it or did it conquer me?




One Comment

  1. Some critical observations:

    There are some strong images created in this piece, but the over-all effect is quite uneven. While the selection of detail is essential to effective writing in this style, sometimes the selection of detail in this piece doesn’t seem to have a purpose (Why so much of a focus on a toilet building, for example? What purpose does this serve?).

    There are also some minor lapses in written accuracy that interfere somewhat with the clarity of the piece, for example:

    In front of me is a wooden gate that reaches up to the bottom of my rib cage, the winds blows it open slowly making a creak.

    Does this make sense?



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