Enervation essays

Enervation essays The enervation of Hoards Path On the misty morning of September, yellow leaves fell as the water crippled the path of the rocks that lay between the erratic waves that stung the water like a cacophonous bee. The lake was surrounded by a huge park named Hoards path. The first time I entered the park a strong aversion came upon me. The mystery of the park held heavily on me and I wondered about the caricature of the waves which puzzled me about the dependability of the waves staying where they were and not blowing me into the lake like a dog that was being pulled in because of the coercion of the waves. When I reached a consensus with my friends about going there in a week we were all exited about exploring the place. My friend knowing of this place warned we about the daunting stories he had heard abut the place and that a kid died a few years ago. The body was never found. On Sunday we headed down the prodigious slope of the Hoards path. The fresh scent of the air gave me a scrupulous outlook on what was to come ahead for us. As we traveled down the volatile slope we felt that the slope was trying to usurp our power and bring us down to the floor. We kept right through the tracks of the slope as the rain water came sprinkling down on us. It was more difficult to reach there since the water made it much more difficult. At about 2:00 PM we reached Hoards path. As we reached the lake to refresh ourselves we felt that someone was watching us. The uneasy levity of this situation from my friends gave me a troubled look. The odd thing is that nothing happened that night. Actually we went there every day to play and relax in the park and we even swam in the lake. I was thinking how such a dark place could make me feel at home. I referred to it as a capricious place always changing its mind as if ...