Nonfiction

It was raining.
My feet were getting wet, slowly at first, but that type of thing always accelrates in the most annoying, unnoticable way.

I feel alive when I can feel the wind blowing through my hair. When I can hear the birds chirping and the streams running. I feel alive when I see all the leaves changing color around me, a way of nature telling us that winter is on its way.

I feel alive when I'm riding my horse. That feeling when there is nothing in my way. Nothing holding me back. The cold breeze against my face as we run through an open field. The smell of horse filling the air.

Electricity is one of the most important resources from the 18th century until the present. Electricity is essential to modern life nowadays.

I feel alive when I walk outside in fall. When brightly colored leaves are falling all around me as the wind picks up. I feel alive when leaves crunch under my feet and I can smell the cold.

Hey peeps, just wanna say I’m reeally behind on alla my inktober stuff, so I’ll try my best to post a few every once an’ a while.

It all started one night at a friend’s house. We were talking at dinner and his parents said there was a mountain biking team in Norwich. So I said that I wanted to try it. So I talked to my parents and they said that I could do it.

Winter is more than just building snowmen outside.

It’s more than frothy cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows floating on top

And red-tip noses from the brisk winds outside.

There is fresh powder outside after the nor’easter last night. The sun is just barely coming over the snowy mountains as I drive down the highway, no one else but me and the snow on the road.

     On a rainy day looking out the window, all one can see is rain. The glowing eye of the television entraps us all. Board games are scattered everywhere. People say there's no place like home.

Most people say that they like summer; well, I like winter. The cold chill, snowflakes in the air falling in slow motion, gliding down like a weightless feather.