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Dima020 [189]
3 years ago
13

Can anyone please write me 2 300 word stories in different styles???

English
1 answer:
Reptile [31]3 years ago
8 0

Answer:

Explanation:

Story 1

The young boy was sitting t the corner of the square. The birds flew happily through the branches of the trees whose shadows were projected upon him and drew delicate shapes in his surroundings. Suddenly, something alerted him, something in the sizzling of the leaves as the wind shook them, blowing his curly blond hair and destroying his efforts to comb it. Just a second was enough for him to grit his teeth as the heat flew through his cheeks when the shape of his own silhouette showed him an exaggerated reflection of himself sitting there, with his hair flowing like the mane of a lion.

But his silhouette wasn't the only one that crossed the intricate design of the shadows that the sun drew in the pavement when filtering through the leaves. An elegant form showed itself, sliding through the shadows as shadows themselves do. The doubtful boy felt the cool sweat flowing from his forehead and running through his cheeks. He widely opened his hazel eyes and tried to discover the hidden nature of the shadow that was curling and twisting itself between the wind. It wasn't easy to determine.

Gathering all of his bravery, the young boylooked up, in order to finally discover who or what was the responsible of playing with its shadow on the ground. The skin of his whole body went pale when he saw what was up on the tree. Nothing. Nothing at all. Just the innocent branches being gently rocked by the breeze.  He pressed his teeth so strongly that his maxilar muscles could be seen through the paper white surface of his horrified expression. He couldn't believe his own eyes! The rattling of the leaves was the background for that macabre game of highlights and shadows that was about to end when a dark figure with claws and white fangs appeared next to the boy and opened its jaws.  

Story 2

I don't know why human beings are like that, but I'm sure of only one thing: We are near of dominating the whole world, this world they pretend to be their property. You should have seen him! I'll tell you a funny story:

Once upon a time, as fairytale use to say, a poor human cub was sitting under a tree, unaware of nothing but his own mane. Come on, humans love themselves, they like being looked at. They can't resist it, and they spend lots of their precious time in preparing their own image in order to be seen by others. Anyway, this poor cub was there, trying to fix his image which was spoiled by the wind. I was amused, watching the scene from one of the branches of the tree. I almost bursted in laughter when his hands stopped moving through his curly hair and his expression, God his expression! He was terrified! That's when I knew that it was showtime! I had to be quick enough not to be seen by him!

Without a single sound, I managed to pin my claws in the rough trunk of the tree and descended slowly, doing my best to avoid his eyesight. It's curious how humans think they are the owners of everything, but they cannot even see at night, something that is quite easy for us, even for our babies! However, I got down, the wind was shaking the leaves and making a great procession of noises with them, so if I did any sound, it was covered by Nature. Everything was perfect. The poor boy looked like a scared little mouse, sometimes I feel sorry for them.

It was time to end my show. Finally, I sat next to the human, he was so scared that he couldn't even see me until I told him I was there! I cleared my throat, prepared my voice, and opened my mouth in order to tell him that I was there.

"Meeeooowww!"

The human looked at me and sighed heavily. He could have died in that very moment! He could have been madly angry at me for having scared him. Instead of it, he petted my head, behind my pointy ears. His hand went down through my back, so I got up and curled my back, so as to show him that I approved his caress. His hand arrived to the tip of my tail, and that was the moment when I went away, thinking about those poor entities who adore us so much that we can do anything to them and they will still adore us. Some day, we will claim our ownership over this World.

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Answer:

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<u>This question refers to meter in poetry, which is done by counting the number of syllables.</u> However, different types of meter will count syllables in different ways. An iambic pentameter, for example, will consider an unstressed syllable plus a stressed one as one foot. Each line will repeat that pattern five times, which is why it is called pentameter.

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