The Black Wolf
My ideas are the only thing that I have, the only thing that exist within my mind, the only thing that will inspire me to take action. I allow myself the freedom to define reality and to define myself as a person. I readily pursue distal possibilities simply because I know them to exist. I am a dreamer limited by my own capabilities and bound by circumstance, yet I choose to boldly challenge reality.
I was once told that wolves howl to the moon, as if longing to touch its glowing surface, longing for what could never be. Their calls fill the night yet the moon never heeds their desperate pleads. Despite this fact, their howls never cease, their voices forever resonating amongst the trees.
At times I feel like my actions may be as meaningless as the mournful cry of a wolf, that my dreams are simply unachievable. At times I fear my ideas will be forever hidden away, lost within the gloom of the shadows. At times I feel like a black wolf, hidden away from sight, my voice lost to everyone’s ears.
on Dec. 01, 2013 :
I'm going to be nice and give this 3 stars.
I've read to page 41 and am, (I am sorry to say), already drowning in the amount of inconsistencies, spelling mistakes and bad grammar.
My head hurts from the number of sentences started with "she" - pleeaase vary your sentence starters!
Also, one question: Why do you find it neccesary to go into great detail of trivial tasks, such as; collecting eggs or fetching water. I found it quite irritating at one point where you took up (I think) nearly 3 pages with nothing that develops any characters or the plot...
On a good note, the idea is interesting - I just can't enjoy it with all that I stated above...
Man, I feel like an English teacher. :L
I'm only 14, I shouldn't have to correct you!
(review of free book)