writing
One winter’s morning,i was sitting on the playground bench.As i was sitting there i could see a bunch of small trees scattered around and it looked like a forest that had been cut down but only a few trees survived.There are trees around the red bricks that are denuded and look bold but across the street on Spencer road there is a big tree surrounded with smaller trees that makes it look like a proud peacock. Infront of me there is there is the playground that is covered with brown and white bark and it looked like there was a flood.If i turn around i could see a flat tree stump.I could smell the grass and mud combined that smelt like egg yolk(not that i have have smelled it before).
I can hear the different cars motors and it sounded like a lion roaring and running at the same time.I can see a red bean bag peeking through the window.I moved on to the hard concrete that felt like it was crumbling as i touched it.I could feel the bushes that looked like a crazy haircut.
