chapter one The sun cast Shadows across the length of the van, highlighting their almost drunk and smiles. The seven right in the middle of the rickety metal vehicle; wild and in the middle of nowhere they could only dream of getting the truth. Her head rested on his shoulder rocking softly with the rise and fall of each breath. Milo reached out, hand closing around a bag of cheese puffs onto his lap. Soon enough his hand was covered in a fine orange powder; she whispered into his ear telling him to wipe them off. But instead with a gummy smile, he brushed it onto her nose. They stayed late into the night this sun slipping off the edge of the earth an egg from a platter. The conversation begins to dwindle, whispers trailing into the night; small rivers with big rocks laughter rises …show more content…
their run towards the water is something out of a film. It's not a cliche, though. Their hearts, their minds, after all this, could never produce something any less than extraordinary. The camera will capture the originality; no director could ever make this, no actors could ever play these roles. Their heavy footsteps sink into the sand she captures their smiles and the way Milo’s iridescent eyes fall on her hair in the evening sun. He swings his arm over shoulder pulling her closer. She turns the camera to face him, a golden glow from the setting sun bathes his features, long shadows drawing them out. Milo smiles a rectangular shape with crinkled eyes his mouth open wide allowing for soft deep cackles that were almost melodic to escape. He tries to cover the lens with his hand, but he’s pushed away. Milo runs off to catch up with his friends. She watches contently, they should be allowed to stay this way forever; life could be a tape from her camera, a cut and paste of moments like these. They're waiting for her, Milo's hand extended for hers, rose took it their fingers
The warm wind blew my hair back, while I listened to the chatter and thumps from the steps on the wooden walkway. Car horns occasionally sounded as they passed by up the road. Colorful sail boats provided a picturesque background. Paris had his camera wrapped around his neck and was focused on the glowing sunset. We sat on a black swinging chair, facing the rippling water that held the sunset’s warm reflection. Paris scrolled through the pictures on his black professional camera.
The first part of Delights and Shadows, “Walking on Tiptoe,” contains a series of pictures of people come in contact with his daily life. He records their strengths
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and the wind was blowing ever so softly, gently rustling the colorful leaves throughout the park. She loved to walk through the park on days like these with her dog, her best friend. He sampled the fresh air into his chest as he proudly pranced along at his owner’s heels. He was beautiful, with a shiny, sleek, short coat of a honey color, and well defined muscles contracting at every pace. They were family, companions, and in sync, enjoying a break from the business of her high paced daily life. As they continued along the wide winding concrete path, another man was approaching walking in the opposite direction. The man saw the dog and shot a
The camera focuses on a mother and her two children. She quickly snapped the picture a bright flash was pierced through their eyes. She gently smiled at the women as she walked away. She took a few more photographers before she drifted away with her memories.
Rose was willing to be submissive as long as Troy remained faithful. Her kind-heartedness was profound. Rose took care of Troy for many years. Her nurturing ways were what made her who she was, the always caring wife, mother, and friend. Everyone who knew Rose knew s...
In other words, the photographer reveals many political intentions just through capturing and framing her bright eye color and gaze. Her eyes radiate such penetrating intensity; it is not just any intensity, but a multitude of mixed emotions, like fear, sadness, and even honesty. The emotions that she radiates symbolizes the fear and hopelessness that embodies people in a war stricken
The entourage of evocative emotions, augmented, entices the spectator to delve into the world of the protagonist Cobb, on his journey. The visual aesthetics being led through manipulation and constructed to a point that is perceptible to the mind's eye. These concepts interpret the quintessence of photogenie, the pure essence of cinema.
It was odd being on the other side of the law. I couldn't hide behind my father's name any longer If he even would claim me as his own anymore. The flash broke my concentration.
I could barely see where I was going. I thought I knew this house like the back of my hand, but this hallway felt much longer than usual. I kept running, though, unsure of what was behind me. All I knew was that there was no time to stop and ask questions. The sound of footsteps had been a light, reasonable volume at first, but now they were gradually becoming louder. Therefore, I decided it was time to make a bold move.
Sun rays shine into my eyes, blinding me by the second. I sat up looking around my board room, the Neutral color could change any mood. I then saw my brother shaking me, “Priscilla, wake up!” Brett, my brother, hollered at me.
He came back with an exquisite assortment of fruits and scones. They were perfectly plump and scrumptious. My stomach rumbled at the sight of them and I blushed. "Hey," he called out to me. "I brought you something." His voice was as soothing as the tranquil sounds of the beach, and his smile was beaming like the sun. And his eyes? Oh lord. He had eyes that were blue like the ocean. I swear, there must have been more women who've gotten lost in them than pilots and sea captains who've dis...
“The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky – seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.” (96)
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
The sun was still below the horizon but the clouds above the mountains were tainted the color of pomegranates. Around me the shadows seemed empty. I tried not to look into the brush as I walked down the driveway. I had stopped before, looking to see the back of the shadows; staring hard, only to have them retreat from my eyes indefinitely. Invisible birds called from within. Their sound followed me down the driveway and onto the road.