Showing, not Telling.
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The hurricane wreaked destruction along the beach. House lay destroyed, and there was no sign of another person anywhere. I stood safely on a hill overlooking the mess, staring dumbly at my broken town.Â
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The room felt stuffy. No breeze, only the shuffle of papers and an occasional dry cough. The teacher paced, arms behind her back, enforcing the overall feeling of trapped boredom.Â
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Tires screeched. Bright colors flew across my windshield, followed by the sound of a wheeze. I opened my door, shaking. The clown’s over-sized shoes stuck out from underneath my car.