Write about running away from something or someone

The only sound that my mind even processed hearing was the repeating thud of my feet hitting the ground as I sprinted away.  My calves were burning and felt full of hot needles.  My shins felt like they were coming off of my bones.  My sides felt like they would come undone and spill me all over the ground.  But I didn’t stop.  I needed to keep running… needed to get away…

My foot caught something and I found myself sprawled over the ground.  The world spun before my eyes as I tried to stand upright, the dirt giving way under my feet.  But my body slumped again and my muscles sagged as it all hit me.  She had died and nothing could change that.

There was no running from grief.

In a paragraph, describe the setting for a love scene.

Picture a beautiful garden behind some sort of museum or national landmark.  Rich, exotic flowers blossom and cover the entire area in colors and shapes unimagined by the average man.  Now picture that the garden overlooks a canyon, splendent in earthy colors like browns and greens of varying hues.  Amidst this garden and its rows of perfect flora sits a bench, perfectly positioned by the cliffside so that all one would have to do is turn their head to place the beauties of both locals side by side.  That, I think, is quite the scene for love to bloom.

They found his diary under his bed

The two detectives found his diary under his bed.  Unfortunately, their hopes of finding a clue to the location of young Henry MacAilis were immediately dashed upon opening the book.  Inside, all they found were drawings of eyeballs, circles, and what could only be described as crazed writings alluding to a great one coming from the deep.  Sometimes it wasn’t even coherent; what might begin as a well-structured sentence could devolve into a random string of letters and numbers that no sane human could pronounce.

“What do you think, Joe?” Martin said.  “I’m thinking this looks less like a kidnapping and more of a runaway.”

“Maybe…” the other detective said, looking unsure.  “But if that’s the case, who does this blood on the desk belong to?”