I see the heat rising off the asphalt on the tennis court. It rises in swirls up into the sky to join the sun that burns my skin.
TASTE
I taste like bitten fingernails. Chomp Chomp Chomp.
SMELL
I smell like an art classroom -- acrylic, guash, charcoal, and clay all mixed together.
TOUCH
I feel like the silky texture of a freshly printed newspaper when you rub your fingers on it and your hand gets covered in ink.
SOUND
I sound like children laughing -- giggles, chuckles, screeches, snorts.
1 comment:
I really like the sentence "It rises in swirls up into the sky to join the sun that burns my skin."
-Carrie
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