[incepi prea abrupt cu detalii - mai bine zi mai intai unde erai, cand si cu ce ocazie]As the pecan-brown horse made its way through the tall linden trees , the tiny roofs of the village's houses arose from  behind the yellow hill .
I adjusted my position on the back of the quadruped  and I pressed my back against Richter's chest in order to keep the balance. I whispered as for myself. "There it is." The sound of hooves hitting the rocks mixed with the noise of water drops smashing against the land caused me to shiver as I gazed over the labyrinth of hay stacks and sought the rumoured village .In its stillness it scared me. Perhaps it was the dead grass-tips bathing in the dim sunlight..maybe the lack of wind or sound ,I wasn't sure .
I could spot the ten tiny houses which structured the townlet , so mesmerising through their simplicity yet so insignificant to the enormous world we live in. They are small buildings situated, better said, in the middle of the unknown. To me, the roofs seemed like a colossus had sat on them, for they sagged grimly and the places also lacked  plumbing, electricity  and people to be shielded from nature's wrath. Even if the outside wasn't promising , the space was adequate for sheltering small families of three. Despite their compact dimensions the houses put together made up a miniature abstract puzzle, so pretty that it made the absence of fences or life unnoticeable.
We walked all the way through the wet and sticky mud, from the top of the meadow to our assigned residence. By the time we got there, the rain began dissolving into the crisp fall air as a few golden leaves whirled down the unseen spiral of wind. The cottage was surrounded by a bunch of apple trees and two massive, elderly oaks that I bet they had taken part to a lot of eveniments due to their age. The sibling trees held so much power in their presence that they made the smaller vegetation seen intimidated.  I named them Crimson and Garnet because they never changed their red coat, almost like(se aplica regula de la if clause, deci trebuie sa urmeze pasta perfect) a which ....... casted spells upon them to keep her secrets safe from the inquiring wanderers. Crimson's  leaves were bright red while Garnet's color was more likely to resemble the drained blood of a murder case which was never investigated. A crime scene, aged and long forgotten. Old blood stains. Crimson's mantle felt more like the freshly spilled ........., both being so different, yet so alike.

great detail, smooth atmosphere; don't neglect the conclusion, where you could go back to narrative and conclude your feelings

Last edited by teacherovi (2019-03-05 21:11:56)