I can’t help saying Armughan has once again sparked beautiful expression in his present story for our blog, but this time the content is not of flawless quality since he’s committed a couple of blunders, intellectual ones, that seem to have marred ‘overall appeal’ of the content; however, he did come up with very impressive vocabulary and mature looking structures for which he does deserve applause.

The hot wind blowing in my face annoyed me greatly

(The title isn’t enticing enough. Instead “No, your makeup is fine, but what’s that on your face?” could have made a better title for the story being this line more captivating or suspenseful one.)

The dripping had slowed down, and the droplets striking the window had come to a halt. The blaring sun fought against the protective cover of her curtains and made its way through a crack in the blinds. The thunderstorm which had prevailed for over two days, had finally given way to sunlight. Seeing this opportunity, I quickly phoned Karen and invited her for shopping at a nearby mall. We agreed to meet at 2pm.

Having got ready, I headed for the entrance. The grassy lawn was covered with a film of water as a result of the scanty but prolonged showers. I decided to ride my bicycle so I could enjoy my share of the sunshine. The dark-grey clouds had vanished into thin air and all that was left was the sun blazing in awesome grandeur. I pushed open the iron-wrought gates and pedaled onto the road.

Soon, however, I felt uneasy cycling under the scorching sun. (The switch to a different weather condition is too sharp & abrupt. The weather now, on the contrary, must be pleasant one since you’ve already mentioned there’s been thunderstorm & it’s been raining for the last two days.) The rays were stinging my fragile skin, and the hot wind blowing in my face annoyed me greatly. Moreover, the intense heat made me sweat all over my face, and I decided not to wipe it off; it had done enough chaos on my makeup already. I peered up at the heavens in search of dense clouds to screen me from the heat. I thought of turning back, but remembering that I was the one who (had) invited Karen kept me on track.

On the way, I came across a group of boys in Bermudas and half sleeves. They broke out into laughter as I passed by. I glared at the lunatics, to which they laughed even harder. This did not end here: passerbys showed similar reactions, while children would run away screaming. I was no longer able to withstand the excruciating heat, nor the people perceiving me as “The Joker” from Batman with the makeup smudged all over. I was by now like a crafty laborer, who had spent all his energy under the broiling sun.

Finally, I reached my destination. I was panting like a dog, wanting to quench my thirst. But adjusting my appearance was top priority, so I decided to head for the washroom. Before I could make my next move, I felt a tap on my shoulder; it was Karen.

            “Anna, what happened to you?” she asked with a disgusted look.

            “I know. The sweat just ruined my makeup. I’ll just go wash it off.”

            “No, your makeup is fine. What’s that on your face?”

Her words made me uncanny about myself. I glanced at my reflection in a nearby puddle. I was shocked to the nerve: I had developed a skin rash. (As a reader, I was expecting something more surprising/shocking/exhilarating, but it turned out just an ordinary looking ending with no appeal at all.)

Vocabulary: Spent, Scanty, Uncanny, Withstand, Screen, Dense, Peered, Awesome grandeur, Stinging, Fragile, Lunatic, Give way, Crafty

Armughan Aslam
O' Levels Final Year

Armughan Aslam

O' Levels Final Year