Everyone is on a journey

TASK: Experiment with language choices to create a story that paints the picture of your journey to or from school each day. Rely on showing rather than telling the audience what you see, hear, smell, etc. on your daily journey.


My brother rushes, over the fence, away from our crazy dogs, jumps in the ute and slams the door with a bang. "Sorry" he whines, knowing exactly what my mum was about to say. The little car wizzes down the quiet road, passing the rolling golf course and the crazy lady with her manic dog. Everything is peaceful, only seeing one or two cars on the winding road surrounded by enormous trees and little houses, that is until we hit the motorway. Here our journey reaches a halt. All I can see ahead of me is lanes banked up with cars and trucks so big you can barely see their roof as you slowly creep by. Mum is getting angry, "I told you we should have gone the other way! Why are people stopping? This is ridiculous!" she exclaims. I sit there, bored and listening to my brother trying to tell my sister about different types of cars he sees, even though she isn't the slightest bit interested. Mum is still raging about the traffic to anyone who will listen. I turn the radio on, relieved when the traffic speeds up and spreads out and mum stops stressing so much about being late to work. I listen to the upbeat song playing on the radio and look out the window. "What is that smell!" my sister suddenly yells. At first I don't know what she's talking about, but then I to notice the most horrible smell I've ever smelled. We all turn and glare at my brother who is laughing hysterically. "It's not funny! It's disgusting! I yell. And at that, all the windows are wound down to let the refreshing breeze into the cars and drown out the smell. The traffic has lessened now and everyone is traveling quickly, in a rush to get to their destination. Eventually we exit the freeway onto a road that is only slightly more interesting. A few gloomy factory-like buildings and a bus station are all that line this busy road. The radio is still playing as we turn onto a quiet street. We pass little wooden houses, all painted in pale colours, and continue down this road, past people walking their dogs and riding their bikes to work. Past strips of shops and cafes just opening their doors, until finally reaching our destination. School.