Muddy Waters - The Long Kiss Goodnight

Artist: Muddy Waters
Album: The Long Kiss Goodnight

Tracklist :

• Mannish Boy

Download Muddy Waters - The Long Kiss Goodnight

I want to be a writer and...?

Hi, I need critics!
Im fourteen and want to be a writer when I'm older, so can you tell me what you think of these? p.s. You dont have to read them all, just comment on one or two!!

A full moon.

Inky black sea of nothing, a carpet of icebergs floating lazily across its faraway surface, coldly never-ending, bitterly unstoppable.
The only source of light the suspended orb, hanging immeasurably, watching with silently cold detachment as it spreads its wintry light to the ridges of the frosty islands; the faraway horizons a muddy brown of synthetic accusations. It drowns beneath the ice, black water choking it, suffocating it till it breaks through, clawing its way with immovable streghth.

Silence. The sun rises, the shadows lengthening, the dew glittering.
Silence. The trees rustle, the sun sending cool shadows slinking away.
But the scene is not alone. The park bench stands in calm pride; a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, composed and impartial. The glittering sun catches the ancient woodwork of the benches, the knots and ridges familiar.
People come by, breaking the stillness. They sit- not for the first time, in the warm embrace of the bench, each edge a stream of memories: of grief, happiness and loss. Old, wrinkled eyes focus on the past, a smile playing they’re lips. A young mother bites a lip, rocking a baby whilst running a finger down the wood. A married couple smile with memories.
The bench stays, unchanging and ageless, the world rolling past with a soothing rhythm.

The rain glanced off of my face, pulling my hair into gentle tangles that curled at the base of my neck. I felt a hot, damp hand grasp mine, folding it into a warm envelope. I leaned my face against his shoulder studded with raindrops, breathing in the dusty sharp scent of rain. The grey concrete floor shone with shiny rain, reflecting the leaden sky, dreary buildings, sullen faces. The only spot of colour in a washed out world was the pale yellow umbrella that domed above my head. Mist rolled in from the horizon, swirling around us like silent ghosts.

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