The buildings were tight together and loomed over her, like a forest of stone. When she looked up the roofs were so close together that she could only make out a sliver of the blue sky that was mirrored by the tiny stream of light that trickled along the cold stone ground. The alleyway twisted and turned back on itself, first going to the right, then to the left. From where Alice stood, whether she look in front or behind, she saw nothing but stone. By chrism3 , March 4, Leave a comment General The alleyway was straight like a drinking straw and almost as narrow; Polly used to joke that it wasn't a place to go walking after a big meal.
The sounds of the roads either sides ricochetted from one side to the other and light from the unguarded apartment windows would reflect from the dark brick walls. Leave a comment General The alleyway is quaint and cobbled.
The houses each side have walls that wobble ever so slightly, but is apparent in the strong morning light. It winds a little, arcing to the right and the heady scent of flowers drifts down from the many window boxes.
Leave a comment General Ben takes a look down the alleyway. He is of course forbidden to use it, and so he wants to. The dark and stinky single block between the backs of the restaurants and the theatres would cut twenty minutes out of his walk to school. After a quick glance over his shoulder and one more to make sure, he leaves the well-lit street for the gloom, feeling his heart quicken.
Leave a comment General Every time Alice walked the alleyway she felt as if the houses had been pushed closer together, as if one day she'd come and find only the most narrow of paths to walk down.
Saturday morning found her there, trying to temp Mrs Fipp's cat to take a bite of her left over morning kipper, squat to the floor and hardly noticeable amongst the strewn junk. Leave a comment General In the half light of the alley the woman appears small. She brings one knee in to meet the other like some little girl waiting for a gelato, but this is no Italian plaza in summer time. The camera lingers on her, and in that moment I can hear the audience take an extended breath.
In the darkness could be any number of dangers, but in the end that won't matter, just one will do. I should be able to smell the popcorn of the other movie patrons, but instead the only odour is the dank alleyway in which the actress stands, too young to know the movie legend she would become a few short years later.
The weak illumination that casts her face into semi-relief isn't romantic moonlight, but instead it falters as old neon signs do. Were she to walk toward the street there would be pawn shops, hotels selling their rooms by the hour and junkies cruising for a fix. The temperature in this ambient theatre drops without warning, on the filthy ground is the shadow of a man. With steady footsteps it draws closer and, without even a warning noise, the charcoal hand takes out a pistol. The young starlet turns.
A male voice tells her "It's time to pay" and a single shot fires. She drops, still perfect: soft cherry lips, hair arranged with every strand in place, ivory skin, angelic with closed lashes of thick black mascara. It was playing in cinemas when no-one knew who would win world war II By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionari , July 14, As I inched closer, anxiety and fear grew.
The first thing I noticed about him was his clothing. The old blue and black t-shirt this old man was wearing seemed so thin that he might as well have not been wearing a shirt at all. His trousers, dirty, frayed, green jeans, were much too short, exposing parts of his frost bitten leg.
Plastic bags, tied at the top around his ankles, were used as shoes. The only thing keeping his face warm was his long, thick, black and white beard that looked like it had been growing wildly for years. The little bit of grey hair he had on his head, blew with the wind, causing strands to be going in every direction. He sat on a dirty cardboard box that was on the ground, hugging his knees close to his chest to protect himself from the cold. His eyes, black and hollow, and his gaze never left the pile of empty juice cans, which lay two feet away in front of him.
His only movement was his constant and continuous shivering. Unfazed by a rat that just ran over his foot, it was almost as if he was a vegetable, oblivious and ignorant to everything that was happening around him.
I was frightened by him. I have never witnessed somebody sit so still through such conditions as if he was frozen in time. It reminded me of a horror movie, something bad and unexpected was sure to happen. All that was missing was the haunting music in the background that signified an immanent death.
Splattered above his head was a discoloured liquid, the shape of a heart. I t was blood, but I had no idea who it belonged to. Was it from the old man or did he do this to someone else?
Upon seeing this patch of blood over his head, I began to feel dizzy. I started to wonder if I was going to be the next victim, if it was going to be my warm blood dripping down these walls. Panic grew in side me. So many thoughts were going through my mind at this point. Across from the old man was a wooden ladder, leading up to a cracked window.Streets General In the alleyway Help can stretch alleyway arms and touch the homes on both sides, these walls build so very long ago. They are not the straight perfection of the modern buildings in the newer areas, but each curve and flaw renders them more dark still. By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionariFebruary 12, essay Leave a comment General The alleyway is darkness and the sour relics of a hundred take-away meals. As Neal walks between the walls that are too high for him to bother seeking the almost black sky, he kicks the garbage with each stride.
It winds a little, arcing to the right and the heady scent of flowers drifts down from the many window boxes. Across from the old man was a wooden ladder, leading up to a cracked window. The alleyway twisted and turned back on itself, first going to the right, then to the left. I took the final steps towards him, slowly and cautiously, and stood squarely in front of him. I have never witnessed somebody sit so still through such conditions as if he was frozen in time.
The sounds of the roads either sides ricochetted from one side to the other and light from the unguarded apartment windows would reflect from the dark brick walls. At any time, this man could jump out of his catatonic state and make coming down this alleyway the worst decision of my life. Disrespecting an nco article 91 essay. His eyes, black and hollow, and his gaze never left the pile of empty juice cans, which lay two feet away in front of him. By Angela Abraham, daisydescriptionari , July 14,