Tuesday 17th May 2016

L.o-To write a paragraph on a style of an author.

As thunder rumbled, Mary scanned the room, then twisted her head focusing on her innocent husband; blood was dripping, thoroughly. The man was dead but you could see it suffering from pain. The violence of the crash, echoed in the distance bringing her to shock. The murderer was ashamed of herself but wanted it a secret. This was not the first time nor the second but she had never been caught. A smirk covered her face, she held the lamb, tightly. Maloney cleaned the room, swiftly so her vile neighbours wouldn't catch her. Guilt trigged down her throat as sweat appeared. All right, she spoke to herself. I have completed my mission.

Somran