Jasmin
01-02-2006, 05:51 PM
Eagle Eyes
As he walked, the old tree's shadows casted a gloomy dullness onto the path he was walking on. His name, yes it he had a peculiar name, something along the lines of Ernest or Eric, I cant quite remember, anyway, this chap, he was a strange lad, around the age of 34, he had never been loved, I couldn’t understand why, he was a reasonable lad with a good job and he wasn’t to bad looking. Or was he? That was the question I just had to find out.
I began to sort of, well I wouldn’t quite say stalk him, I just began to follow him a bit, he wore clothes from an old charity shop, weren’t to shabby I guess, he had pale skin, and scruffy blonde hair, I couldn’t quite catch the facial features, but I managed to get a glimpse of his deep brown eyes. They where beautiful eyes, narrow and full of dreams and hope, but his eyebrows were crooked and suggested to me that he was full of deep fear. I had to stop staring, or else he’d think I was weird but I couldn’t help myself, his face was so amazing, you could see his cheekbones and his lips where curved to perfection, his walk, was a slow stride, almost like he was following the cracks in the path. I followed him, until I had to turn another direction, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, My boss kept staring at me, because I kept staring into the distance, all dreamily, thinking about him, I wasn’t in love, just fascinated how no one else loved him. I was distracted by him, as if he was haunting me, I closed my eyes and all I would see was him, being tortured, I didn’t know why, I felt scared and without myself noticing I ran out of the office and back home. I felt myself breathing heavily. And my forehead was hot. My son came in, I was about to say hi, when suddenly I felt my eyes widen, my heart started to run riot in my chest, his face, my son, Daniels face, it.. It resembled the man so much; he had his blonde hair, and curvy lips and everything. And with that, I remember nothing but blackness.
I remember gaining consciousness at some hospital, no one was there, accept my son, and for some reason, he didn’t resemble the mans face anymore, it resembled the face I once had seen, the face of my son, I felt relieved. I was out of hospital that day, doctors told me to take it easy. Daniel’s father had left him and me when he was born, and I hadn’t seen him since. Daniel was 13. He was a good lad, and I trusted him. I didn’t think about Ernest or Eric or whatever his name was, for a good week or two.
Shall i continue writing more?
As he walked, the old tree's shadows casted a gloomy dullness onto the path he was walking on. His name, yes it he had a peculiar name, something along the lines of Ernest or Eric, I cant quite remember, anyway, this chap, he was a strange lad, around the age of 34, he had never been loved, I couldn’t understand why, he was a reasonable lad with a good job and he wasn’t to bad looking. Or was he? That was the question I just had to find out.
I began to sort of, well I wouldn’t quite say stalk him, I just began to follow him a bit, he wore clothes from an old charity shop, weren’t to shabby I guess, he had pale skin, and scruffy blonde hair, I couldn’t quite catch the facial features, but I managed to get a glimpse of his deep brown eyes. They where beautiful eyes, narrow and full of dreams and hope, but his eyebrows were crooked and suggested to me that he was full of deep fear. I had to stop staring, or else he’d think I was weird but I couldn’t help myself, his face was so amazing, you could see his cheekbones and his lips where curved to perfection, his walk, was a slow stride, almost like he was following the cracks in the path. I followed him, until I had to turn another direction, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, My boss kept staring at me, because I kept staring into the distance, all dreamily, thinking about him, I wasn’t in love, just fascinated how no one else loved him. I was distracted by him, as if he was haunting me, I closed my eyes and all I would see was him, being tortured, I didn’t know why, I felt scared and without myself noticing I ran out of the office and back home. I felt myself breathing heavily. And my forehead was hot. My son came in, I was about to say hi, when suddenly I felt my eyes widen, my heart started to run riot in my chest, his face, my son, Daniels face, it.. It resembled the man so much; he had his blonde hair, and curvy lips and everything. And with that, I remember nothing but blackness.
I remember gaining consciousness at some hospital, no one was there, accept my son, and for some reason, he didn’t resemble the mans face anymore, it resembled the face I once had seen, the face of my son, I felt relieved. I was out of hospital that day, doctors told me to take it easy. Daniel’s father had left him and me when he was born, and I hadn’t seen him since. Daniel was 13. He was a good lad, and I trusted him. I didn’t think about Ernest or Eric or whatever his name was, for a good week or two.
Shall i continue writing more?