Articles
Black Beauty
Who am I as the writer? The describer of the scene.
Who is my audience? People who would like to read my description.
Beautiful. Stunning. Light blue, the sky sat there as if it was waiting for something BIG to happen. Something amazing. Something that could blow any humans mind. Candy-floss like clouds hung over the top of the emerald green trees that towered over the old rickety fence. The hills, which were covered with a layer of pasture, stretched out beyond the fence like a carpet of green velvet.
An inky black steed galloped into view with its mane and tail flapping like the wings of a crow behind him. His feet cut through the grass and dug into the damp soil under his feet as his hooves clattered together with every stride he took.
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