Does this sound OK to you?…it is supposed to be a "childhood neighborhood memory" as a journal entry..please
Autumn…
The amazing colors of nature are all over. It is raining…The rain is pouring so hard, it seems like the autumn is trying to let everyone know that it is here. The rain reminds of a see through curtain that is hung of the skies and is telling a fairytale to the motley leaves. The leaves are shaking and whispering to each other. They don’t have the desire of separating from the trees; they don’t want to fall on the ground and then be stepped on and swept away. It is worthless, no matter how hard they try; they are still falling down, giving their last dance in the air and continuing to weave the “carpet” of fallen leaves.
I am sitting in my bedroom and staring out of the window. This is my neighborhood--the “kingdom” of my childhood. My memories make me feel nostalgic and take me back to my childhood. My eyes are closed now…The rain stops, the sun is out again, the leaves are back on the trees and there are a lot of multicolored butterflies in the air. I am in the park that is right in front of our building. How many memories are involved with this place? This was the most favorite place of my childhood. This is where I came every day with my grandfather. My favorite was the red carousel, I used to sit on it and ask him to spin me around as hard as he could. Today I am not going to. Today is a special day, it is grandpa’s birthday, I am going to make a “mud cake” for him like I used to several years ago. There he is, my grandpa. He is sitting on his favorite bench and reading his newspaper like he always did; once in a while glancing at me over the top of his glasses to make sure I didn’t go too far.
“Grandpa, grandpa, come here! I have a surprise for you,” I am calling him.
He is not answering. I am looking around and I can’t find him anywhere even my red carousel and his bench are gone…
I open my eyes. I am in front of the window. The rain is even heavier now. Tears start trickling down my cheeks and even the window is crying with me…I close my eyes to stop this dullness but I am not able to…My childhood is gone….
Does it sound like a memory of my neighborhood?
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March 5th, 2010 at 12:18 am
Not only does it sound like a memory of your childhood, but for a moment, I was in that kingdom with you. This is the mark of a born writer~that they can make you feel that you are there. Editors can clean up grammar, but only writers can make people feel! I can’t email you, so please join the writing community at http://www.helium.com/ This website has a marketplace. I’ve sold work, and so can you! You didn’t ask for grammatical editing, so I won’t offer any, but you can feel free to email me. Beautiful, just beautiful!
March 5th, 2010 at 12:18 am
It sounds very good. You need a few minor changes to the grammar.