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0091-05-14
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2003-10-03
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Emulating Arthur
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Charlotte-Drusilla
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Being interesting enough for you to be reading this
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...I saw Totoro
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Samurai Champloo
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To finish the story
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Art-ing
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Saturday, February 7, 2004
Hmm...
I've been trying to come up with a decent intro to my "book" for a long, long time now...I don't know about this, however.
He could feel the sweat on his brow, the shoe slipping from his right foot. His palms grew sweaty, and he nearly tripped several times as he ran, but he did not stop. Even when he crashed into an elderly lady carrying her groceries in a large brown paper bag, and fell into the dirt. He scrambled frantically to his feet as people screamed curses behind him, unaware of his situation.
He could feel them gaining on him, their footsteps and fists drawing closer. There were people shouting after them now, too, but stopping and begging for help would not have amounted to anything. Any one with sense chose to stay out of street conflicts—they were more often than not fatal, and fought with such intensity and lack of restraint that it would have taken a wild boar to separate a skirmish once it started.
He felt his feet grow heavy and his head begin to spin. His breath came short and he began to wheeze. His chest tightened and he felt his entire body begin to falter. Not this. Not now. He squeezed his hands into fists, allowing his torn nails to dig into the flesh of his palms. He had to keep running. If nothing else, he had to keep moving. His vision began to blur and tears were streaming down his face. Spots of brilliant, multi-coloured light began to speckle his vision. He could no longer make out men from women, tell where he was going. His hearing grew echoed, and the noises of the street seemed to go far away. His vision failed. He could see nothing. All that he could do was try to keep running and hope he didn’t trip or hit anything or one. It failed.
His left foot twisted awkwardly, and he fell to the ground with a yelp. He dug his fingers into the dirt of the road, trying to bring himself to his feet. He was blind and practically deaf. He was tired. He could not breath, he could not move. He was going to die, and they were the ones who were going to kill him.
Well, yeah. Any tips/opinions would be much appreciated.^^
Thanking you very much.
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