A New Day...

Autobiography written by kingoftheword on Saturday 13, February 2010

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Description
This is a running commentary of the day I flew from U.K. to Mexico

Overall Rating: 87%

This writing has been rated by 2 members, resulting in a rating of 87% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:89.5%
Imagery:88.5%
Spelling & Grammar:86%
Flow/Rhythm:84%
Vocabulary:87%
It had been a long, long day but, oh, so completely worthwhile I had been looking forward to this day for what had seemed like an eternity. The flight was like a dream, watching the land of my birth rapidly disappear from beneath me, as I ventured into the limitless skies above. My eyes didn't leave the window for a second, the on board movies held no interest for me, because nothing could be as spellbinding as the world I now saw before me. Almost a day later the October skies had transformed from English grey to Caribbean azure and gold, during the final descent the cabin had reached fever pitch as this elegant steel bird touched down on the runway with regal grace. I rose to my feet, my six foot, eighteen stone frame filled the entire aisle, I sauntered down the gangway and as I reached the bottom of the steps, I set foot on Mexican soil for the first time and opened up my arms to absorb the atmosphere into every pore and follicle, energising my spirit beyond compare. As I made my way through Cancun airport, seeing beautiful, smiling native faces everywhere I looked, getting through customs and baggage reclaim proved relatively easy, then through the glass doors where porters were running around transporting luggage and ushering new arrivals to their coaches. Green and white taxis were lined up around the carport vying for business, happy to barter for trade, those immortal words from the wizard of oz seem somehow relevant now, 'we ain't in Kansas anymore', let alone England (Heh, heh, heh). I boarded my coach and settled into my seat, again my eyes were glued to the window, as we set off down the coastal highway I was entranced by the seemingly neverending waves crashing on to the the golden sand beaches, pure, natural beauty that was so incredibly, starkly contrasted with poverty just the other side of the highway. Tin huts, with old wooden banana crates fashioned into window frames, dirty, naked infants running around, playing at the side of the road, the hammocks outside, suspended by neighbouring palm trees act as the bedroom, the parents and older siblings sat on rocks drinking cheap Tequila and smoking joints of locally produced marijuana. At every crossroads sat an armoured car surrounded by four or five guards armed with automatic weapons and dressed in dark green jumpsuits and kevlar flak jackets, the coach made it through each and every checkpoint without any trouble, after an hour on the road I had arrived, in every sense of the word. The Grand Sirenis Resort was five star perfection, from the elaborate fountains to the marbled walkways, I walked up the stairway to the main entrance lobby with its' cathedral high ceilings. I checked in and was greeted by girls ferrying around trays of Tequila Sunrise, then, glass in hand I was ushered down to an awaiting golf cart, I was relieved of my luggage by the bellboys who took it straight to my awaiting suite. I was driven off in the cart along pathways that were adorned by palm trees which were being proudly guarded by Lizards of all varieties, fifteen minutes later I arrived at the door to Suite 7551. I inserted my keycard, the door clicked open and I began to walk across the high polished wooden flooring, past the bathroom on my left, then past the Master bed also on my left and the big screen T.V. on the wall to my right through the lounge and then I slid open the patio door and stepped out onto the balcony that had a perfect view across the tops of palm trees of the beautiful Caribbean Ocean and the Hotels' private beach only five hundred yards from where I was standing. I reached into my pocket pulled out my carton of cigarettes, lit one and inhaled, exhaled slowly, took a sip from my drink and eased myself into a chair, and in my head silently screamed, in the words of the late Michael Jackson "THIS IS IT".....!!!
   

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Comments

    Some very nice imagery here.

    I can almost feel the tropical sun.
    A good story. You should use a spell checker or get someone to proofread your work.
    Oh, and jet aircraft are usually aluminum composite, not steel.
    Didn't actually find any spelling errors, and was using poetic license with steel bird as aluminium composite bird doesn't really have the same ring - do you think - but thankyou for your comments.