Though the sunset was illuminating the horizon, the woodland pathway was still dark. The trees stood as if charcoal against the deep blue sky. The only flash of color was the orange pouring across the skyline like molten lead from a furnace. John slung the sack of grain over his shoulder and walked, not looking at the beauty ahead, only at the rain sodden path that was treacherous with slippery mud. After a time he became aware of a glowing up ahead too low and too white to be the sunrise and he lifted his eyes to meet it. He stopped. A figure approached, not human, but human form. It was not reflecting the morning light, but emitting it, actually glowing from within. His skin was almost metallic, bronze perhaps and he was tall, taller even than John. His eyes were like fire, reds, oranges and yellows that flickered and sparked. Despite the mud on the track the figure's white robes were quite spotless, even his shoes. Then he spoke, deep and baritone, "Fear not, I am an angel of God."
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My Descriptive writing pieces
General FictionIf you haven't guessed, this book is full of my different descriptive writing works from April of 2018 to present. Each idea is prompted by either readers, my friends or how I feel about something. If you do enjoy my work and want to request a topic...
