Imitation: I was ready; I could feel my legs holding together by nervousness of my body. I grabbed the rope with my shaky hands trying to be strong and stick like gum you would find on the bottom of a school desk, sticky. The rope was already screaming “blisters” in my head; I took a long deep breath, I jumped. The feeling was not so great, but there were butterflies scattering in my stomach. My legs stuck the landing and I felt my cheekbones starting to rise as it went through my head that I have accomplished that jump
Original: “So I kissed him back, my heart pounding out a jagged, disjointed rhythm while me breathing turned to panting and my hands moved greedily to his face. I could feel his marble body against every line of mine, and I was so glad he hadn't listened to me - there was no pain in the world that could have justified missing this. His hands memorized my face, the same as mine were tracing his, and in the brief moments our lips were free, he whispered my name.” — Stephenie Meyer (Twilight Saga).
No comments:
Post a Comment