Authors, Writers, Publishers, and Book Readers
erma jane Young has not received any gifts yet
This is a very confusing site. When I try to add a comment on any site it disappears. I guess I shouldn't mind, at least I'm getting my writing exercise done for the day.
Since this will disappear I'm going to write.
Liza sprang from the saddle hitting the defrosting ground with a loud ump. Rolling until she hit the stack of rocks that would protect her from the bullets.
Every shot peppering the ground and destroying the tall saw grass that waved in the afternoon breeze. She grimaced in pain, her hand brushed her side, she glanced at her palm it was bloody. She wanted curse like the cowboys did when shot, but what good would it do in this fight for her life.
The sound of her horse disappearing over the hill hunting safety from the noisy gunfire that continued to gouge out long trenches. Liza dodging sagebrush limbs flying in every direction that could be as deadly as the lead that was slowly uncovering her tiny space of safety.
Tell me what is wrong with this scene