The object which inspired me in my creative writing was a prickly pine cone, lying unwanted on the street. I tried to think about this when writing a description of a homeless person.
The Homeless Man
Slumped in the corner of a secluded street, sits a man, companionless and forgotten. Passers-by dodge him like an outreached hand misses a falling leaf, forgetting that there is a person with opinions and beliefs, concealed beneath a roughened exterior.
An overgrown beard, hair and eyebrows stick out like scrawny wires, with the texture of a rough and spiky pinecone, many of which clutter the streets around him like dismal confetti. A bony nose sticks out from behind the mass of tangled, matted, confused hair, looking like nothing but slight bit of skin wrapped around a thin bone. His lips, drained of any colour that was once there, remain thin and rough, hiding a set of pale yellow teeth which have forgotten how to smile.
His clothes are bland colours, an array of browns and greys, slowly getting dirtier and dirtier. Shoes barely cover his half-frozen feet with gaping holes from the endless treks he has made, moving from place to place, before settling in another secluded street.
By Anna Smail