Lighting was trashing the clouds, thunder was screaming at them, the storms force was too powerful. The sky had been disturbed, yet it only spoke silence. While the storm was foolishly playfighting, the sky laid out a nice warm bed with a side of pyjamas. Knowing that the storm wasn’t easily sleepy, orange sparks flew everywhere. Since the storm was vulnerable, the tiny sparks darted all around the storm. The sparks misleading towards the bed, the storm swam to follow anyway. The sky began tucking the storm in, once the storm calmed, the sky kissed the storm goodnight. The storm produced a gentle breeze. Just like a sleeping child.
By Abby
Hi Abby, you have lots of metaphors and good imagery in this piece of writing but I think you have ended up confusing the reader. It is quite hard to distinguish what is happening in this story...... Mrs P
ReplyDeleteHi Abby Your story was mind blowing. You never ever used a boring verb and it was very descriptive, I loved your adjectives that you used. I think that you could have used less commas and more full stops. By Xanthea room 4 Valley school.
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