Fishing Descriptive Writing

Falling A screaming came across the sky. We were falling, falling so fast no one had even a second to react. The only thing I could hear was the sound of muffled screams of terror, fighting against the wind. The aircraft suddenly jolted forward. “Good,” I thought,” The engines must be working.” The Boeing 747 began to control its speed and started to maneuver back to a stable position. After a few dreaded moments, a wave of relief rushed through the cabin as tears of joy were shed. One thing was certain; we weren’t falling. A young boy with short brown hair began to make his way waddling down the aisle. I could hear his worried parents screams, but the young toddler payed no attention whatsoever. He took his time, examining the atmosphere

With my luck, I found only one small, but worthwhile piece. Then, scanning the beach, I found a fairly large piece of flint. With a sigh of relief, I said aloud,” I’ll live another day.” As I sat down on one of the large rocks on shore, I began to knock the flint and steel together over top of the brush I had set up as kindling. Just as the spark reached the brush, I heard a faint whoosh, which got louder and louder by the second. The brush caught the spark, and began to turn a faint orange color. Then, flame. The sound approached the tiny island and kept increasing in volume. I was screaming with excitement. I would be saved, even if it were a large passenger plane. It, in fact, was a plane, but not any plane, a small, white, two passenger Cessna. It came buzzing over, very rapidly in fact. It was almost too fast to be in control. Suddenly, I was watching last night all over again. The plane dove headfirst to the ground, its body in a tailspin. The nose smacked the water with a large crack, and the plane disintegrated. My joy was shattered as carnage filled the water. My heart sank as flames rose up from the sea. Thousands of pieces of the plane were thrown violently across the water, and the hull, or what was left of it, began to sink slowly into the water. I couldn’t see the passengers, but I knew they hadn’t survived that awful

“Thank you, though. I appreciate your kindness.” I added, with a faint smile. I glanced around. Words couldn’t express the excitement that I had. I wasn’t in danger, I was dreaming, and most importantly, no one was dead. I let out a short sigh of relief and kept my eyes open, as though not to recreate the horror I had “lived” through. The little boy wandered up the aisle, stumbling around as if his shoes were heavy with lead. He turned around with one swift rotational jump and made his way back down the aisle, looking around curiously. Suddenly the plane jolted. The lights went out, and then came back on almost immediately. But what struck my brain the most at that moment, was the fact that the little boy was gone, and in his place was one brightly lit shoe. We began to fall. We began to fall so fast, it was as if I was