Creative Writing: The sin Creative Writing: The hell It is the quintessence of monotony: a mountain chain of aggrandize that lies atop fallow lots the size of kitchen magnets. Welcome to suburbia. I effortlessly enter my pervious pastel palace, moreover the pilgrims journey to my room is an uphill battle; it is quite an insurmountable quest. The start to my cell consists of a frozen spiral staircase. It is not fluid and slippery, though, but rocky and perilous. The portal lies beyond the staircase I force my way through the abrasive forcefield of forbiddance. The shrieks of my tearing bod are subdued by the overpowering silence of the room.
language are mouthed, but not spoken. They do not exist. This electrical cell of torment does not allow language, the embodiment of opposition. As I step into my room, I notice all colorise of the spectrum for a fraction of a second, then they appear red. measureless pictures endow the walls; they are all of one person. I have sex her, but who is she? He...If you want to get a full essay, dedicate it on our website:
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