Wesley Hall
Stories (4)
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Brutal Betrayal
Explosions could be heard as a war was going on outside. Michael and Pearl stood in the hallway of an old Mansion that the owner had left behind when the war broke out. Soldiers could be heard entering the bottom floor of the mansion while they searched different rooms.
By Wesley Hall4 years ago in Fiction
Surreal Dreams
Have you ever had a dream where it felt very real to you? Then for some reason you could not explain why when you talked to someone you know. This was the case that increased with Mary every time she went to sleep. While Mary would be swept away from her apartment bedroom to an unknown world. The only time that Mary realized she was awake was when in the dream world if she was critically injured form something attacking or falling form a high place with the thought that she might die. Dreams come from our subconscious given form.
By Wesley Hall4 years ago in Fiction
Life and Film
Okay so I want to try my best and tell you this. Sometimes I wonder what a person’s life or even your life is like through the lens of a camera. I mean the thought of life being like a camera and seeing the world through the eyes of another. I feel like it would be cool to see the waves of a salty blue ocean or even to stand at the top of a mountain and overlook the town below. That sure must be nice for others instead of being stuck in a cold room surrounded by a mountain of books and documents to sift through. I’ve been locked in this room for a couple of years. I don’t know, at this point all the days kind of blur together. I hope I can find the answer to the question what it means to live.
By Wesley Hall4 years ago in Fiction
Life and Film
Okay so I want to try my best and tell you this. Sometimes I wonder what a person’s life or even your life is like through the lens of a camera. I mean the thought of life being like a camera and seeing the world through the eyes of another. I feel like it would be cool to see the waves of a salty blue ocean or even to stand at the top of a mountain and overlook the town below. That sure must be nice for others instead of being stuck in a cold room surrounded by a mountain of books and documents to sift through. I’ve been locked in this room for a couple of years. I don’t know, at this point all the days kind of blur together. I hope I can find the answer to the question what it means to live.
By Wesley Hall4 years ago in Fiction
