Respond to the following. This is a freewrite which means you write whatever pops into your head after reading the prompt. Your freewrite should be approximately 250 words long. Please edit when you are finished.
PS: Thank you for being such an awesome class and supporting me through my grief this past week - greatly appreciated. MsM
Prompt:
I heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noisy grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was . . .
This is blog 8 folks...I don't understand why you couldn't find it? Odd?
ReplyDeleteMsM
It was exhilarating. Watching all of the Harley Davidson motorcycles, and the Jesse James customized choppers ripping by made me want one. All of the bikers looked like they were a part of the Hells Angels, so I felt unsafe getting too close to their prized choppers. I admired from a distance, fantasizing about streaming down an open highway, with the sun setting in front of me. The wind hitting my face, the scenery passing me at 130 kilometer an hour, the thought seemed so surreal. What could be better than that? Nothing. No guts, no glory. That would be my motto. I’d be the most intimidating biker on the roads. Everyone would know and fear me. Or I could bike around, spreading goodness to people. So many thoughts rushing through my brain. All I want to do is ride a bike. I will contact Jesse James and get him to customize a chopper for me. I want really big wheels, and a long frame. My girlfriend can ride on the back of mine, or better yet, she can get one of her own. We can travel across the country on our motorcycles, seeing the world from a totally different perspective. We could travel anywhere we wanted. We could go across Canada, through the United States of America, and maybe even Mexico if time permits. Just thinking about these things shoots a shot of adrenaline right through my bloodstream. One day I will get my chopper, and one day my dream will be a reality.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was . . .
ReplyDeletea monster truck driving by. But it was out of control, I couldn’t see the driver. Once the truck blew by me I knew I had to do something. I ran as fast as I could down the street. The beach wasn’t too far away so I knew that it couldn’t get too far from me. Port Dover was always cold this time of year. Even though it was May, the weather still felt cold. Body heat radiated off my body and sweat dripped down my face. I hadn’t run like this in a long time. The truck was smashing cars and any thing else that got in its path. It looked like it was getting faster as it drove further away from me. Or maybe it’s because I was running slower. I just couldn’t keep up with it anymore. Deep inside me I knew that I had to push past my doubt and fight to run. It was up to me to stop that truck before anyone else got hurt. All of a sudden it became closer to me. It appeared as if I had sped to a speed that matched the truck. The beach grew closer as I ran. Then I noticed that the truck had stopped right before the edge of the water. I wanted to see who was driving, I wanted to see if they were dead. I climbed up the large black front wheel. I got covered in tar, but it didn’t matter, I just wanted to know. I opened the large door and was shocked...it was me. I felt so scared and so confused all at once. Was I in a dream? Was I even real?
It was scary. I’m not the typical person you’d find at Port Dover on Friday the 13th. The loud engines gave me a head ache and the entire city wreaked of exhaust fumes. Not to mention the intimidating and pushy people. The last thing I want is to be ran over by a bunch of Hells Angels. The term Hells Angels doesn’t even make sense. They try to sound all tough using the word Hell, but then they add Angels to the end of it. But they still look really tough, so I guess the name doesn’t matter much. Even if their name was the Fuzzy Bunnies, I wouldn’t mess with them. I wish I wasn’t here. Everyone’s drunk, yelling, and smoking. My friend dragged me along, saying it would be fun. Yeah, real fun. I can’t wait to go home. She hands me her camera and squeals as she runs off to pose for another picture with some big tattooed guy on a Harley. I take the picture, not really paying attention to the shot. This guy looks just like the other six she hung off of while demanding I take a picture. She says it’s only lemonade in her water bottle. I don’t believe her. She starts to stumble and I told her I’ve had enough, it’s time to leave. As much as I didn’t want to drive, now I’m glad I did. I made her pay me gas money too. But now I’m the one who gets to dictate when we leave. I push her into the passenger seat of my car and start it up. You can’t even hear it over all the motorcycles. Just as I’m pulling out of the parking lot, a hear a loud Bang from behind me. Oh God. I look out my back window, and one of those big burly guys decided to gently nestle his motorcycle inside my back bumper. Looks like I’m going to be here a lot longer than expected...
ReplyDeleteIt was astonishing to see the mass number of motorcycles zooming by. How I wished I could be on the back of one, holding tightly onto my bad boy. With his leather jacket hot from the sun beating down, the smell of exhaust and sweat, the ultimate smell of man. He has big hands that grasp hold of the handle bars in a sure lock, full of power and control. He would be wearing a helmet, black with a tinted windscreen, so dark you could only see your reflection. He would be full of mystery, a charmer, and everyone knew his name, but wanted to actually get to know him. And I would be the girl that all the others envied, because I was sitting on his motorcycle, going to Port Dover with him. But secretly, he was my best friend from childhood. He wouldn’t really be a bad boy, he just liked that impression he gave people. It stopped people from messing with him, for he hated being taken advantage of or hurt. When someone has a history, they generally don’t want them finding out. Biking is his escape; when he rides in the mountains, no helmet, no leather, just him, his bike, the road and mother nature. He rides to feel the wind on his face, hear the sounds of the engine and smell the air, clean and crisp. No one to bother him, not a soul to ask him why, just the earth to house him if he were to fall...but he would never fall because when he gets on that bike, it is no longer man and bike, it is one entity, like a man-machine. Indestructible, my best friend.
ReplyDeleteDear Diary
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noisy grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was an upsetting sound. i never wanted Friday the 13th to come around. friday the 13th is my birthday and everytime it comes around my parents dust their Harley Davidson Motorcycles off and head out for the Day. i am an only child and i have to spend it home alone. a kid my age would generally think that it would be pretty sweet to have the whole house to myself. i could blare the music as loud as i could, watch whatever cartoons i want, and eat all the junk food in the house. it's not that fantastic let me tell you, you get sick of eating all the junk food, you get a head ache after a while of listening to music loudly and the cartoons are all reruns. the one thing that makes me truly happy is riding my bike; i go out on the trails for hours upon hours. today i went out on the trails jsut like any other day, but today something spectacular happened, i met the nicest boy. This boy was also 15 years old, and the cutest guy ever... his name is Chance. i felt really bad when i accidentally hit him with my bike. i invited him back to my house so i could clean up the scrap on his knee. as we were walking in the door he notices the streamers and confetti all over the house. i explained to him that it is my birthday and he asks where everyone is. i tell him that it is friday the 13th... they are all in Port Dover. after cleaning up the cut on his knee he tells me that i am going to have the best birthday yet. he cranks up the music in the house, turns the cartoons on and we lay out all the junk food in the house on the table... he was right, it was the best birthday ever. life is so much better shared and i have gotten a new friend out of this!
I heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past my face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was three crazy Harley Davidson drivers going uncontrollably fast. Me and two of my friends were walking down the street looking for where to buy Arbor Dogs. We heard them coming even when they were not in sight yet. We bought our food, and sat down at a picnic table near the beach. It was a reasonably nice day out, about 19 degrees. It wasn’t too cloudy, but the wind made it a little chilly. We had been sitting down for about ten minutes when Lucy noticed her wallet was missing. She freaked out. She threw her hot dog down, and ran down the street, first checking where we had bought our food. When she was turned away, tears formed in her eyes. This wallet had everything; her money, ID, bank cards, and more. She ran back to us, we had already started walking towards her, looking along the ground as we walked. I suggested talking to a nearby Police Officer, thinking he’d know what to do. He suggested the lost and found, and told us he would keep a special eye out for the wallet. Lucy explained it to him and we were on our way again. Em said that it might be smart to look in the lost and found, just in case. Lucy and I both knew though, that if it was in the hands of someone else, they would likely keep it, not return it. There are very few people out there that are nice, and have a good heart. It was about an hour later, when we were slowly giving up that the same Police officer we approached earlier came running up to us. He had a huge grin on his face as he handed Lucy her wallet. Lucy did not even think- she gave him a huge hug. He explained that three twenty four year olds riding Harley Davidson motercycles were spotted looking through the wallet at a picnic table near the one we’d been sitting at. They claimed to find it on the side of the road, and maybe they did. It was weird to think that those were the same three motercyclists that had raced by us earlier in the day. Thank God Lucy found her wallet.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past my face. The noise grew louder and louder; it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar. I pulled myself back into the car as I continued to speed up, my face now frozen from the cold wind. It had been only one week since she had broken up with me but since then I had lived with reckless abandon. Nothing seemed to make sense to me any more and my life felt as though it had no purpose. I reached 150 mph in downtown Toronto and there was no way I was stopping. The stolen Ferrari was almost out of gas and I knew the cops would be on my tail soon. I looked down for one second and saw something that forced me to stop. It changed my life forever: a ticket for half price at Chuck E Cheese’s. The car screeched to a halt and impatient drivers honked to remind me that I was in the middle of an intersection. I didn’t care. I knew that if I could make it to Chuck E Cheese’s I would be alright. I got onto the highway and was ten kilometers away when the car broke down. I got out and ran as fast as I could. It took me nine hours but I made it to the front door just as it was opening, 9:00 AM sharp. Pushing some kids out of the way I frantically waved my ticket to the man at the desk. I pulled out another ten bucks to cover the other half of the ticket and told him to keep the six cents change. Boy, was I in a good mood; I had just found my calling.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was a drag car staging for its race. All around me was smoke from the burnout, I could barely see the car, but before I knew it there it was lining up at the tree. The car in the other lane looked just as fast, if not faster, so it added to the excitement. After both cars had lined up the drivers matted their foots to the floor and let the rev limiter bounce, the tree went yellow, yellow, yellow, green and they were off! The ground shook as the tires squealed, everybody was going nuts! They were neck and neck, nobody could tell who was going to win, as they were approaching the quarter mile mark the left lane car blew its back tire, sending it straight into the other lane. Both cars collided and instantly burst into flames. Everybody screamed as the one car flipped over the railing and started cart wheeling, shredding into more and more pieces as each rotation was completed. The rescue crew took off to try and help, the crowd couldn't believe what they had just witnessed. As the rescue crew arrived there was an awkward silence as all of us waited for the word on the drivers’ condition, nobody thought he had survived. Finally the announcer came on the speaker and announced both drivers were alive and had only suffered a few minor injuries. Suddenly the crowd roared to life, and soon after the news the mess was cleaned up and two other cars came up to the staging lanes ready to race like nothing had even happened.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noisy grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was . . .
ReplyDeletethe sound of the demolition derby at the fair. Everybody knew the noise and it was a noise that could be described as one thing, summer. The fair was an event that everyone waited for as it only came once a year. However, this year was different. I was actually going to be in the demolition. Yes, me, and I couldn't believe it. It was around 2:00 in the afternoon and my competitors and I were practicing for the first round that would take place that night at 7:00. We practiced by driving around the track without hitting eachother of course, that would be saved for the actual competition. The variety of cars was astounding. There was a Budweiser car, a car with flames on each side, a teal coloured car decorated with palm trees and so many more. Mine, was pink and was decorated with hearts and flowers. Girly... I know. I had never been in a demolition derby before but for some reason, I knew I was ready. I would do good and maybe even win. I went with a few friends to get something to eat before the competition. After eating a burger and fries I rushed back and began to get suited up. We had to ensure everything was safe before the competition began. Cars can light on fire very easily so we all had to wear fireproof clothing and helmets. We all jumped into our cars and heard the announcer, 1... 2.... 3.... GO! There was bumping and scraping and it was absolutely exhilirating. The teal car decorated with palm trees was the first to get eliminated as all three of his tires fell off. I was doing my best to cause damage without getting damaged, very ironic. Three other cars got eliminated including the Budweiser car. It was finally down to myself, the car decorated with flames and a bright yellow and orange car. I roared through the dirt ground and side swiped the orange and yellow car. The car with the flames hit my front end and blew his own engine. There was only two cars left, one being mine! I was so excited but had to remember I hadn't won yet and had to keep going. The orange and yellow car came at me full force and flipped my car twice. I was automatically elimiated as my car was on it's roof. That was it. I didn't win, but I did come in second place which is pretty good for a girl who had never participated in a demolition before. I got a silver medal along with a small plaque that I still display on my dresser. Never underestimate the power of women! (Especially in pink cars)
I heard the rumble of tires, felt the whoosh of wind as it blew past face. The noisy grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was getting closer and closer. I whipped my head around to see the flashing of lights in hot pursuit of a large, black Jeep. The sheriff looked determined to catch the culprits who had just helped their friend escape from jail. As soon as they were out of sight, I ran to Chris’s house to tell my friends about what I had just seen. As soon as I got there, they made me do the dreaded Shake n’ Bake before they would let me in. They knew I was self-conscious about my weight, but I lifted up my shirt and proceeded to shake my gut anyways. Chris got mad at the others for making me do it. He was my best friend. I could always count on him. He let me in and I quickly told them what I had just seen. We turned on the television and the CH News anchor, Bob Pressman was reporting on the incident. He said the people who were escaping were the West Street Bandits. The police had been searching for them for years. Last month they finally caught one of them, but obviously not for long. They were on the run again. There were police at every border so there was no way they were escaping Oregon. We decided since there was nothing we could do, we wanted to go to the local diner, Chubby’s. We hopped on our bikes and rode down Baker’s Hill to the diner. We walked in and sat at our regular table. We then proceeded to order our regular food: five orders of fries, two vanilla milkshakes, for Chris and me and three chocolate milkshakes for the others. We had just received our food when three grubby, tough men walked in. We would have recognized them anywhere. It was the West Street Bandits. The largest one, presumably the leader, held a gun up in the air and shot three times. Everyone screamed and hid under their tables. The smallest one told the diner this was a holdup and ordered everyone to shut up. The large one walked over to the cashier and screamed at her to open the register and give him everything that was inside. I turned my head and saw the police surrounding the diner outside. I knew I had to do something to distract the bandits long enough for the police to enter and detain the three men. I bravely stood up from under the table. Chris pulled my leg and said “What the hell are you doing, man?”. I looked down at him, then back up. I pulled my leg away and started to walk towards the three criminals. They stopped what they were doing and looked at me. The two pointed their guns at me and the largest one spoke. He asked me if I was crazy and that they had guns and I could get hurt. I looked him in the eye, lifted up my shirt and did my famous Shake n’ Bake. They looked at each other, not knowing how to react to my display. All of a sudden, the door to the diner burst open and six cops barge in. I scurried back to my table and hid with the rest of my friends. As soon as the bandits were apprehended, we all got out from under the table and were questioned by the police. They told me if it wasn’t for my Shake n’ Bake, they would have probably never had enough time to get in there and detain the bandits. The newspaper headline the next day read: “Chubby Boy Helps Catch the West Street Bandits by Distracting Them With His Famous Dance, Shake n’ Bake” and had a picture of me with my shirt up. Who knew one of my biggest insecurities would end up saving not only the day, but possibly lives as well. I had never felt better.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was all of the bikes riding home from Port Dover on Friday the 13th. They seemed to be in such a rush, and I understood why. As the noise of the bikes got louder so did the thunder. It was like something out of a scary movie. You know when its all nice outside and then all of a sudden the thunder comes, the power goes out, and the killer pops out of no where and gets everyone when they are least expecting it. That’s what it was like here, but without the killer. I was on the beach enjoying the hot sun, and all of the new people I was meeting, and then all of a sudden the sky went from light blue with no clouds to black. It felt like it happened in a matter of seconds. It was the craziest thing. Everyone started running out of the water, and off the beach. People hopped on their motorcycles and drove away as fast as they could. People were running all around me, but I was still on the beach in my bathing suite as calm as can be, and I am not one for thunderstorms, but I figured with all of this chaos going on around me there would be no point in freaking out. After all it didn’t seem to be doing them any good, so I sat there until the beach was almost empty, and it was pouring rain by this point. Then I walked to my car and drove home. On the way home I realized it really was pointless to rush because everyone was stuck in traffic anyway.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was the biggest motorcycle I’d ever seen. I knew motorcycles were large but this was the size of a monster truck. As I turned the corner it went flying past me again. I swear my clothes felt as if they were going to blow off my body. This motorcycle was the coolest, most awesome thing I had ever seen. I ran as fast as I could to catch up to it. I think the driver saw me running behind him because he stopped and asked if I would like to ride with him, of course I said yes. It was the most amazing experience of my life. The wind was rushing through my hair, trying to keep the spit in my mouth as my lips flew open from the gust of the wind, and ever person we drove by looking with amazement. The whole experience was just awesome. I asked for the guys e-mail so I could try to convince my parents to buy me one for my 10th birthday which was coming up in just a few weeks. When I got home I ran to the computer to e-mail the owner. He e-mailed back giving me the info and surprisingly my mom and dad actually called. My luck was looking good until my mom hung up the phone and looked at me with an, “I’m sorry hunny” face. The bike cost 1 million dollars. Bad luck that our family isn’t swimming in money, but good luck that the owner said to call him anytime I want to ride. What a Friday the 13th.
ReplyDeleteI heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble it had exacerbated into a roar - it was incredible. It was a sound like no other. It was my grandmothers 1988 Harley Davidson. It has always been in perfect condition.
ReplyDeleteI turned eight years old last Friday. My grandmother promised me one thing on my eighth birthday, a ride on her Harley. My birthday landed on Friday the 13th, the only one this year. It seemed very important to her. I could not wait for her to arrive.
I always see her roar off into the distance when she leaves my house from babysitting me. Every time I ask "Grandma, Can I please ride the motorcycle?" I begged. "Not yet, you are too small!" She would reply. Finally today, I was not too small. I was going to ride all the way to Port Dover! Foot long hot dogs, the beach, the big bootied babes, it is an eight year old boys dream!
At 9:30am I heard the roars. It was Grandma! She is 98 years old, and is never late. Happiness filled my soul! I was born ready for this ride.
As I put on my helmet, Gran tightened it, picked me up effortlessly, and placed me on the bike. We passed by her retirement home on the way there. So long suckers!
- ANDREANNA
I heard the rumble of tires, felt the woosh of wind as it blew past my face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble, it had exacerbated into a roar - it was . . .
ReplyDeleteMY BRAND NEW CAMARO. My sister had stolen my Camaro: my gorgeous, shiny, purring baby. It was now in the hands of a maniac. I screamed some colourful words at her as she tore down the road, and they just kept spilling out as I started sprinting after her. I couldn't contain the raw fury that was bubbling up inside me. I could only use it to sprint faster. I had run down our mile long driveway and was still managing to scream threats at my evil sister-- make a mental note: be mad next time I go to work out. Finally reality kicked in, reminding me I wasn't fit so it wasn't practical to be chasing after a muscle car, so I collapsed on the grass at the side of the road. Heaving from exhaustion and anger, I fought back hot tears that threatened to spill onto my cheeks. No sense crying, it's done. Now is the time to start plotting my revenge...
I heard the rumble of tires, felt the whoosh of wind as it blew past my face. The noise grew louder and louder - it was more than a rumble, it had exacerbated into a roar - it was the final moments of my dream before I woke up in a cold sweat. I turned to look at the calendar; Friday the 13th. I sighed and heaved myself out of bed, but no sooner had my feet hit the floor the room began to shake violently. I screamed in terror as I began to fall, the darkness engulfing me. I prepared myself for a hard land but instead I landed on a soft mat. I blinked and tried to look around but I could not see a thing. I was about to call out when the lights were flipped on and a rush of people screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" I began to laugh as it dawned on me that this was a surprise birthday party, but before I could thank everybody I heard the rumble of tires, the noise growing louder by the second. I turned to see my dad driving up a brand new car and I squealed in excitement. It didn't take long to persuade him to let me take it for a drive, and as I did so I rolled down the window to feel the whoosh of wind as it blew past my face. I fell asleep that night more content that I ever had been, but when I woke up once more I realised that I had once again been dreaming.
ReplyDelete