You have left London to go back to the Country. Write your thoughts. I heave a sigh of relief as I plop myself in the creaky carriage. I glance back at the congested city, and watch it turn into a minuscule black dot. The image of breezy winds, fresh green grass and the acres of beautiful land have quite faded from my hassled mind. It has been forever and a day since I felt the warmth of my home; alongside my dear Condoled, toasting ourselves lying on the satin-like fields. The dispiriting grey backdrop will soon bloom into stunning heavenly meadows.
Sunny folk music plays in my mind as I feel my bones laze into my skin. Farewell Ernest, salutations Jack. I tally the stones we pass by as the carriage progresses along the rocky road; all the weight and worries of the city fade one at a time into the distance along with them. Gushes of cold wind began to pat gently on my face; nothing says welcome to the country more than the sweet singing ether. I begin to envision Condoled frolic into my arms with Joyous strains In the background, infatuated butterflies release endlessly Into my stomach.
Love Is a force more remediable than any other, and offer you more Joy than any material possession could. The untainted atmosphere has now overtaken my lungs; which were filled with Impure air from the befoul city. Beaming stars begin to appear one by one on the sapphire skies. In the city, one Is not able to spot one single lustrous star. My mind wanders Into the precious moment when Alga, Cecil, my love and myself; set ourselves on the fresh meadow, counting the luminous darlings In the sky. Oh how they bear a resemblance to Condoled; radiant, heavenly, and soulful. The stars med tedious that night when she gazed Into eyes.
All of a sudden the grating carriage comes abruptly to a halt, my heart pummels ungovernable. My consciousness Is racing, and my stomach Is galloping. I grab hold of my luggage and cast my eyes back up to the entrance of my humble home. There she stands gracefully, her dimple visible on her left cheek accentuates her ministering smile. The love of my life, first and my last; my dear Inamorata. Essay (CEQ) Jack Worthington, The Importance Of Being Earnest. By steps_Christy envision Condoled frolic into my arms with Joyous strains in the background, infatuated butterflies release endlessly into my stomach.
Love is a force more impure air from the befoul city. Beaming stars begin to appear one by one on the sapphire skies. In the city, one is not able to spot one single lustrous star. My mind wanders into the precious moment when Alga, Cecil, my love and myself; set ourselves on the fresh meadow, counting the luminous darlings in the sky. Oh how seemed tedious that night when she gazed into eyes. ungovernable. My consciousness is racing, and my stomach is galloping. I grab hold ministering smile. The love of my life, first and my last; my dear inamorata.