Spell 1

Marcus Spell
Mrs. Leshnock
Honors English IV
22 January 2015
Trees on Fire
The calming wind contradicts the radiant colors that surround me. Crunching
leaves dwindling beneath my feat continue to cause silence to allude me. With
every passing hour Apollo calls the sun closer home, but even as the colors of
dandelions and gold take refuge in Apollo striking colors of auburn and scarlet
remain. With my scarf and gloves bulging out of my hoodie pocket I realize that my
hoodie is more than enough for the unerring weather.
As I stroll on the old dirt path the memories of summer flood my mind the trees
once full, green and budding now dissipate and change in color. A rock quarry to my
right displays a rock like none other that I have seen on my journey thus far. The
same curiosity that killed the cat seemed to guide me to the lovely peacock among
pigeons. Picking up the rock to examine it I feel an unnatural sensation of
excitement traveling from the rock to the rest of my body. This excitement only
grew when I looked down to find a key formerly gold now rusted leaving solemn
traces of its true colors. With two bonded swirls as the bow and the now worn
blade signifying years of being forced into the wrong key hole my mind is
overwhelmed with the endless possibilities as to where this key belongs. After

whipping the residue from this seemingly ineffectual key I slid it into my back
pocket and continued to progress upon my journey.

Spell 2
The sun's path home seems to hasten as though Apollo grows more impatient
with every passing moment. The tones of scarlet and amber that I once knew now
have deepened to rose and burnt sienna. My hands take comfort in the same pocket
as my scarf and gloves. With every step I take a new unfamiliar stone is greeted by
the top of my shoe. As I continue to stroll sending stones flying out of my path with
my size twelve I stumble upon an object foreign to the feeling of a rock. This feeling
is of a much lighter decent, with the geometric presence of a cylinder. With this
change of sensation from my foot to the small rocks to what I feel now I decide to
gander at what I have stumbled upon. Made from a mendable plastic and just wide
enough around so that the toddler with the smallest of hands could sip I recognize a
childs cup. A diminishing hot pink displaying what seem to be flowers nearly
washed away from the rain of Mother Nature now rests in my hands to do with as I
please. I retain the littered cup and hasten my journey knowing that my time on this
path is running short.
I close my eyes to imagine the world before me letting only the path beneath
my feet guide me in the right direction. Humming as though I where a bird flapping
my wings preparing to take flight I feel a brisk splash of water tickle the very tip of
my left foot. My eyes spring open as wide as the Grand Canyon to gaze upon the
rushing rapids upon me. Water clear as the most emaculant diamonds reveals the
swampish sludge beneath it. Now the decision that bombards my mind is whether

to leap across, but the idea of falling weighs down my curiosity of what may be on
the other side. Patrolling five steps to the left and five back again I begin to weigh
my options of taking the leap or returning home. A wave of undesire to return home
seemed to push me across the body of water barely making it to the other side.
Looking back into the water more pure and clean then the most spotless of sheep to
the naked eye couldnt have been a foot deep but when dropping a rock inside it
sinks for what seems to be forever.

Spell 3
After my leap of faith the dirt path began to reveal cobble stone that doesnt
resemble the time by which it has existed. Candle lit street lights parallel to one
another standing tall as the trees guide me to a door as strong and broad as the
wooden giants that surround it. Laced with black steel, decorated with a golden
door knob, and radiates countless possibilities. With the appearance of a hand
crafted frame and mended of the finest oak wood this door seems to be a gate way
to another dimension. The grand entrance now supplicating for me to come forth it
seemed almost robotic to pull the key out of my pocket and insert it into the key
hole.
On this occasion my old, fading key fits perfectly into the key hole and unlocks
the door. A door that seems to have never before been used but opened by a key
that is very worn proving to me that no one has ever been this far along the path
that I tread upon now. Thoughts of the fresh appearing cobble stone show that I was
the only person with the faith to make the jump at the body of water and out of
those who took the leap of faith I was the only successful individual. I gradually

twist the key 90 degrees clockwise and push the, what seems to be an
insurmountable door with all of my mite until it is ajar just enough to slither
through.
A flavorful array of leaves lay resting at my feet on the other side. A burst of
light greeting me as I continue to travel on the path I realize that the walk way now
seems to be forged of gold and a brick wall blocks my way. Standing as high as a
mountain the wall of stone calls forward my curiosity once more and I must scale it.
When at the peak of the barrier blocking me from the rest of my journey I see it. The
most beautiful thing mortal eyes could lay his or her eyes upon. Apollo has now
brought the sun to rest sleeping upon the trees causing vibrant colors of all sorts to
dance upon the tree tops. These mixtures of dandelions gold scarlet sienna and
auburn dance from the tree tops to their limbs down the trunk and leave traces
upon the fallen leaves. The colors radiate upwards as though they wish to go back
Spell 4
with the sun to Apollo. I return home in amazement of what I have seen. I hide the
key in only a place that I would ever find it and this place I shell never tell even after
I am dead.