Creative writing story titles "Twinkle Twinkle", not sure if it makes any sense - I can understand it but i'd like another perspective...any comments/criticism/etc.

Essay by crazyfrog December 2003

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Estelle secured the heavy oak doors quietly, not wanting to wake her family. She wasn't dressed, - as was the custom - in white, but instead in a variety of grays and blacks. She knew if she were caught there would be trouble, but she couldn't bear the asinine rules any longer.

The chilled winter air bit hungrily at her ears and she pulled her beanie down tighter as if to shut out the cold, but also, people who might see her.

Eyes darting from side to side, nervously, she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets in an effort to keep them warm, but the frosty wind bit an invisible hole right through.

Not aware of the time, she knew still, that she must be late due to all of the precautions she'd taken just to get out of the house alone.

She scurried across the road and melted among the shadows as soon as she reached the other side.

It was lined with huge ash trees, their leaves bright orange and bronze. They provided all the cover she needed. Slipping from behind one to another and weaving in and out of the baby trees that anybody else would have collided with, she carried herself quietly and delicately.

She was petite with long ebony curls cascading down her shoulders from under her beanie. She had the most electrifying brown eyes with a tint of orange, almost like a Tabby cats. With those eyes, she didn't look at people, she pried deep inside them.

She came to halt at a meadow with nothing in it but a pair of swings and a dilapidated wooden cubby-house. She was on full alert but moved with trepidation compared to her hurried sprint along the street. The playground looked deserted and so did...