Wednesday 6 March 2013

Arson

Dancers in the inky black, twirling across the stage. A volcanic carnival, it seems. Jewels in the night, it seems.

You gaze up with excitement; shock. What is it? You are enthralled by the performance. You are disgusted how it happened, how such artists got there.

There. I glance upwards, one last look before the stage disappears. Forever. Tears almost well in my eyes. I imagine this 'stage' a pile of flakes. Nothing. Why did I have to do this?

Pippa

2 comments:

  1. This creates a beautiful image in my head. I love the way that you have varied your sentence length. Just one improvement. I know that it is hard to not get over 80. But check for sense as you seem to have missed out a couple of important words eg. I think that you need an is after stage in your simile. Great though.
    Sarah

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  2. I think this is a very clever use of a sustained metaphor, and I like the twist right at the end. That last sentence is what turns it from a pure description into an intriguing and powerful story.
    Mr B

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