Gaze Creative Writings Samples For Students

“I never loved him,” I said; and at that moment I felt free as never before.

Those four simple words were very hard to say. For the latest weeks I had been saying them in my mind all the time. There they did feel right, but did not anymore when I said them aloud.
Tom regarded me with that piercing gaze of his commanding eyes. I knew this gaze; it always got me weak and incapable of making my own decisions. And that both firm and tender intonations in his voice, when he began reminding me of our sacred memories, I knew it too. I always felt weak near him. In fact that might ...

“Ah, Mr. Rossi, you are here. Please, sit on that chair… yes, that one right next to the stove,” the photographer addressed young Massimiliano Rossi, who had undertaken special grooming procedures early this morning in the little room he was renting, above a sultry dry-cleaning store, owned by an immigrant, just like himself. Recognizing in each other the destitute position of an alien in a no man’s land, they silently offered each other the hand of friendship through little adumbrations of good will: lower rent, free dry-cleaning, sharing of food.
That morning, Massimiliano’s tawny, chestnut eyes were looking ...

Jim leant against the door frame, biting his lip. He watched his wife open her suitcase and start packing her possessions into it.

He knew that he hadn’t been a perfect husband, and he also knew that they’d been having problems for a while. The frequent arguments, the slamming of doors; the revving of engines as one of them drove off into the night, furiously wiping tears away from their eyes, had been hard to bare. But despite all of that, he still loved her.

He watched as she packed the long, red dress she had bought on their ...

‘You have to close your eyes,’ Megan said. Smiling, Frankie closed her eyes and allowed Megan to lead her into the room.‘Okay,’ said Megan, ‘open!’

Frankie opened her eyes and stared. There, on her chest of drawers, propped against the wall, was a beautiful mirror. It was large in size – Frankie could see her and Megan’s full reflections from their thighs upwards – and it was framed in white marble, carved into the shapes of flowers and leaves, running down the side of the mirror.

‘It’s beautiful.’ Frankie ran her hand down the side of the mirror, pausing ...