Broken Silences It was a beautiful day on the uprise fields of Ireland. A comfortable bungalow was the only pointedness dotting the landscape for at least five miles. The door opened, and show up stepped a young man. He was not too tall, his sandy hair gathered behind him in a ponytail. His look sparkled ever-so-slightly in the morning sun as he stretched with a loud groan. He strode a a couple of(prenominal)er steps from the cottage and looked around. It was a great day out. He was dressed advantageously in slightly baggy blue jeans and a sullen t-shirt, and since no one else was awake, he decided to go for a short walk.
The flat fields seemed to go on infinitely in all directions, but after a few short minutes of walking, he arrived at a hill. It was then that he first heard it: A beautiful voice, which poor the silence. He had never heard anything like it. It sang no words, just sounds. He had to know where the sound came from. He pronto crested the hill and spotted the source. It was a girl of ...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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