Class Exercise: Writing Prompts
Prompts are taken from: Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays
Joshua:
her eyes were brown circles with big black dots in the center and
she laughed like a dog before vomiting
like an oscillating electric fan set on medium
as if she were a garbage truck backing up
They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met
like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup
one of those pointy hook latches, underpants in a dryer without Cling Free
one of those boxes with a pinhole in it,
the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience,
His thoughts tumbled in his head,
Her face was a perfect oval,
It came down the stairs
Her voice had that tense, it hurt the way your tongue hurts.
Fraser:
My similes suck like 98 missing legs
Her eyes were like whatever.
Her vocabulary was as bad as an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
He was as tall as nose hair after a sneeze.
He fell for her like a six-foot-three-inch tree.
Her hair glistened in the rain like the sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Darren:
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something. He was as tough as a cookie, not a metaphorical tough cookie either, but a real cookie man splintered with chocolate chips the size of fists and held together with fossilized molasses, harder than diamond. He was a real peach, not the metaphorical real peach either but a a soft sweetheart with a stone inside him if anything should float from the earth he had the soul to dig in. He stopped at the bar to wet his whistle not the metaphorical whistle wetting but the real thing, grabbing the crusty bartender and demanding to soak his grandfather's tinwhistle in a bucket of vodka for good luck.
Joshua:
her eyes were brown circles with big black dots in the center and
she laughed like a dog before vomiting
like an oscillating electric fan set on medium
as if she were a garbage truck backing up
They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met
like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup
one of those pointy hook latches, underpants in a dryer without Cling Free
one of those boxes with a pinhole in it,
the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience,
His thoughts tumbled in his head,
Her face was a perfect oval,
It came down the stairs
Her voice had that tense, it hurt the way your tongue hurts.
Fraser:
My similes suck like 98 missing legs
Her eyes were like whatever.
Her vocabulary was as bad as an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
He was as tall as nose hair after a sneeze.
He fell for her like a six-foot-three-inch tree.
Her hair glistened in the rain like the sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Darren:
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something. He was as tough as a cookie, not a metaphorical tough cookie either, but a real cookie man splintered with chocolate chips the size of fists and held together with fossilized molasses, harder than diamond. He was a real peach, not the metaphorical real peach either but a a soft sweetheart with a stone inside him if anything should float from the earth he had the soul to dig in. He stopped at the bar to wet his whistle not the metaphorical whistle wetting but the real thing, grabbing the crusty bartender and demanding to soak his grandfather's tinwhistle in a bucket of vodka for good luck.
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