Continuation on Surviving the Odds

That was what went through the man’s head as they were reaching the settlement. He was in shock that it didn’t happen. I guess things were really going to turn around he thought. Finally they drove into the settlement. The settlement really was what used to be the neighborhood filled with all the richer people from around the area. It was in shambles, but it was the best place to keep people.

When they drove into the settlement the man saw that everyone was working to try and restore the area for proper living. The man got out of the car and an older gentleman came over to greet him.

“Welcome,” the older gentleman said. “My name is Robert and this is our little colony.”

“Hello, my name is Kurt,” the man said. “Are we the only ones left?”

“The only ones I know of,” Robert said. “I haven’t heard of any other colonies sproutin’ up, then again communication is rather hard these days.”

“True,” Kurt said “Well is there anything I can do to help?”

“Well for right now you should get settled” Robert said “Then once you are ready you can help others to get this place back up and running.”

“Sounds great,” Kurt said.

Kurt could not believe it. In one day he had gone from pondering suicide to living with the last survivors on Earth. Was it luck or fate? Kurt got settled and helped the others around the colony to help restore it.

Night fell and everyone went off to sleep. Everything was quiet as if the world was born anew. There were not even crickets or frogs to make noise. In the distance a noise pierced the night a small one, but a noise nonetheless. It was the sound of light footsteps marching in the distance. No one could hear them except the crumbling buildings and the desolate wasteland that lay ahead. They were coming, but who knew when or even what they were. Only the light would tell.

How does this sound?

Greg was irritated. Between the trouble his teenage son had been getting into and the overworking and underpaying job he had got himself, things were definitely not going well. Tricia had threatened divorce twice this month already, and their younger son had developed an unrecognizable malady. He sighed, he had to set his life back on track.

“Say, Roy, why don’t we head to the doctors?” He said. “You’ve been looking off color since you went to visit your sick friend at the hospital.” Hopefully Tricia would appreciate the time he was trying to put into help their sons.

6 year-old Roy nodded, too weak to speak. A day before he had been energetic and active. How? Greg thought, how does one day make so big of a difference?

The hospital was typical; white walled with the strong scent of disinfectants. Greg inwardly groaned. He was the type that avoided places like this.

“Number 23, please” the receptionist called.

23… that was the number on their ticket. Greg stood and shouldered Roy. Another doctor led them to an isolated room and started asking Roy questions, who in turn just nodded or shook his head.

Suddenly, a Justin Beiber song started playing out of nowhere. “Oh,” Greg said, “It’s just my phone.” Greg checked the front, caller ID… 1-354…ugh, it was Jack’s school again. He picked up the call.

“Hello, this is the secretary of Wheaton High school. Is this the father of Jack Close?”

“Yes it is. What has Jack done now?”

The secretary half chuckled. “Jack is only ill. He is being dismissed now.”

Greg sighed with relief. “I see, I’ll just hop on over there then.” He terminated the call. “I’m sorry, but my other son has fallen ill as well. Do you think I could leave? It would only be for a few minutes.”

The doctor nodded. “It should be fine; I’ll be here a bit longer to finish the basic physical check-up.”

Greg nodded and left, pausing only to grab the keys from the bedside table.

Anything stand out as bad? Good?

An Excerpt.

It was fall, and I was stuck transferring into another school. Again. And it was a public school; it was my very first time transferring to a public school. But it was easy.

The last month had consisted of many idiotic public schoolers trying to catch up. Hmmp. As if they could. Before, watching them struggle with variables was fun. Now, it was getting a bit old. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and living was easy. Not to mention boring.

My boring day was interrupted when I learned that we were getting our exams back.

Those public-school idiots were still whispering after the bell rang.

“Yo, the old teach told us the class average was under 70!” one said.

“Really? I heard it was less than 60 this time!”

“C’mon! That’s impossible! That kid’s in our class!”

They were talking about me, obviously. That was my initial thought.

“You mean Ken?”

“Yeah, I mean Ken! Everyone else is lucky to get away with passing grades!”

Hmm… Okay, they weren’t talking about me, then.

A while later the teacher entered the class. Ugh. She’s always late. Ms. Merrier lugged a stack of papers and smacked them onto the table with a thunk. Then, she started calling out names.

“Rosier.”

“Here!”

“Come get your test, Rosier!”

“Oh.”

I yawned. Merrier had a habit of piling the tests from low score to high score, so it was best to be called last. In other words, there wasn’t a chance in hell that my test was coming soon.

“Boucher.”

“Sampson.”

“Adams…”

I blocked Merrier’s voice out, and switched to nibbling on my pen. My name will come last, I said to myself silently. My name will come last.

Without knowing the age, gender, ethnicity (yes, that matters), or other attributes to the main character, what does the voice make you think? Is it developed? In what ways can I improve the voice?

Forgot to do this Friday, wooops.

John was sound asleep. The constant ringing of his alarm clock gradually got louder as it began to play for almost an hour. John, in a daze, looked at his alarm clock with droopy eyes. Realizing what hour it was, he was suddenly wide awake and started to get ready for work. He hoped in the shower and took the quickest shower of his life. He quickly shampooed his hair and only lightly swiped his skin with soap. He got out of the shower and dried his hair so fast with a towel; it felt like he had burned his scalp. He got dressed in record time. He decided it wasn’t necessary to shave so he continued downstairs and grabbed a granola bar and a 5 hour energy power shot and went out the door. While driving to his work, about 20 minutes away, he hadn’t hit any traffic surprisingly. As frantic as the situation was, John thought he would be able to make it to work on time. John had never been late for anything, and he was scared he would lose his job if he was late. John was paranoid now and started to have an anxiety attack. Due to the anxiety, John decided to drive faster. He had finally pulled up to the stoplight in front of his work. With only a minute left, he decided to run the red light, thinking it would be ok if he were in the building it would not be that bad. As he ran the red light, John was t-boned by a big rig 18 wheeler. John’s car was totaled and was pronounced dead at the scene. Before John passed on, he heard a paramedic say that it was daylight savings time, and that he forgot to set his clock back an hour. John cried a little bit and passed on. Was it easily visualized? It was only a writing exercise and I don't plan on extending it.

Excerpt of Arta's Adventure: Arta v. Irene

Then four years later, after dating for so long, Garrett finally proposed to Arta, they are about in their early twenties. They married at a big church hall in Seoul. Everyone was there; it was extravagant and elegant wedding.

“Congratulations!” Kisara and Harmony said at the same time. They were standing with their husbands. Everyone there congratulated them. Arta and Garrett got in their limo and headed for the airport. They went to Hawaii for their honeymoon. They went scuba diving, surfing, had dinner on the beach, and went to the water park. About two week later when they got back from the honeymoon, she found out she was six months pregnant. A few years later, they had three kids; two boys and one girl. Their names were Yumi Rider (eldest daughter), Alex Rider (eldest son), and Damion Rider (youngest son). During those years of being pregnant, she still worked but just taking it easy. Garrett was working with Arta’s father at JangNa Corp at the time too but still had time to take care of work and Arta. When the children were born, Garrett and Arta took time off of work. But when they got a little older Arta and Garrett went back to work but no late nights. They lived happy and joyful life with their three kids.

Is this a good ending to the story? Does it have too much detail? If it does, how can I improve?

Rudy Demorzio’s life has never been normal. Rudy has seen his share of things at the young age of 20. The year is 1989. Rudy lives in Italy near Rome and is the only child of a very well to do family. The ways in which his family gained their status, however, are not within the norm. In fact his family is more infamous than it is famous. Rudy is the son of Lou Demorzio, the most notorious mobster in Italy. The Demorzio’s were feared by many and nearly impossible to arrest. Rudy was next in line to take over the family “business” something which he dreaded. Rudy was much different. Rudy is a boy 5 feet 8 inches. He has a sort of portly build and average strength. He has hazel eyes, dark brown hair, and a round face. In order to conform to the demands of his family, Rudy is forced to wear suits. He would much rather be in comfortable clothing such as sweats. He has a very laid back and comical demeanor unlike his very serious family. Rudy wanted to something real with his life. He wanted to get away from the crime and corruption of his family. His real dream was to be a Hollywood actor.

what do you think of this? is there too much description?

Woman with the split face

Yeah...This is kinda bloody. Its a bit a a story I wrote based on the Japanese "Woman with the split face" legend.

    A Geisha walked by on the side of the street, an umbrella hiding her face modestly. Nobu called out to her while attempting to pull his horse over to the side. The normally compliant mare refused. Nobu would ordinarily beat the stead to force its cooperation but he wanted to keep seem calm and collected in front of the lady, so he slid off the horse and walked over to the her. She turned to face him keeping her eyes lowered and a sleeve raised to cover the lower half of her face, as if she were hiding a secret.  The alluring lady greeted him with a diffident nod as befitting a Geisha. He wondered why she should was wandered the outskirts of town unaccompanied. Feigning a gentleman, he offered to be her escort back to town as it was close to night fall. When the woman approached the mare, the animal reared back snorting. Nobu couldn’t force its cooperation without seeming cruel, so instead he made a weak excuse for the horse’s jumpy behavior, which caused the Geisha to giggle coyly.

     The two decided to head for the village on foot since luckily it was nearby. As Nobu pulled his unwilling horse along behind them, he found that his companion spoke hardly at all, which suited him just fine, for he always had plenty to say. She fell behind him a step as they reach the outskirt of the town. Nobu didn’t mind as he continued to monopolize the conversation, nor did he see the woman pull a long knife from the folds of her obi. The horse let out a loud whinny and tugged with all its might at the reigns. Its tether was yanked free of Nobu’s unprepared grip and the horse set off at a run in away from the village. Nobu had turned to chase after the horse but froze at the Geisha’s sudden proximity and the sight of the knife in her hand. He unsheathed and swung his sword at her in a single movement, but it seemed to pass right through her. In an inhumanely swift motion the Geisha grabbed Nobu’s neck in one pale petite hand, gracefully crushing his wind pipe. Nobu hissed and wheezed, too disoriented to fend her off as the dagger in her other hand sliced his mouth open from cheek bone to check bone. Nobu clutched his bleeding mouth. The Geisha wiped off her white face paint and red lipstick with a sleeve revealing the long gash of a scar that split her face.  Nobu, shocked at the sight of the disfigured apparition, stumbled back. As he reeled the specter advanced and sliced off his head. His head bounced and rolled across the dirt road coming to rest face up, its blank eyes reflecting the fresh night sky and its bloody mouth grinning gruesomely at the night sky.

Just a part of one of my stories

Time passed and no one came to get me. I watched as people I became friendly with had terrible procedures done to them that the doctors thought would restore them to good health. I heard the cries of patients. I knew of five electric shock therapy patients and I’d heard rumors of two lobotomies. The patients I became friendly with slowly had the life drained from them. You could tell they were only getting worse by just looking at them. The real problem, though, was that the majority of these people were sane.
One day, Mildred didn’t come to breakfast and Alice was crying at our table.
“Samuel, where’s Mildred? Why’s Alice crying?” I asked.
“Sit down sweetheart,” In the weeks that followed my arrival, Samuel and Alice had taken over as paternal and maternal figures. “The doctors took Mildred for a lobotomy this morning.” He said gloomily.
“But she’s sane!”
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do. We just need to remember her the way she was,”
“I can’t accept that!” I ran from the room and looked around frantically, running through the halls to find the operating room.
“Miss Walsh! Stop!” Nurse Mary yelled. A guard stopped me.
“I have to stop that lobotomy! That girl’s sane!”
“Miss, you’re mother’s here to release you,” sure enough, out stepped my mother, with tears in her eyes.
“Annie,” she whispered.
“Mom, they’re doing a lobotomy on a girl who isn’t crazy, please, you need to stop them!”
“There’s nothing we can do, you need to come. We’re leaving this place.” And so I left that building same the way I’d come in: screaming, kicking, and begging.
***
“You may now kiss the bride.”

Bo-Fango Isn't Verusing Bo-Jango

I woke up one fine morning to realize that it was actually the afternoon. Five pm to be exacted. I jumped out of bed, realizing that I had missed the meeting with Bo-Jango, the most Bo-Jangalin' guy around. While I had no I idea what that title actually meant, I knew that he would want to hurt me now.
It wast time to leave town, you know, for a few days. I couldn't talk to anyone about where I was going or what I was doing because then Bo-Jango would know where to find me. So I just left.
I had been gone for a day over-sleeping in a hotel room when I realized that I didn't tell my girlfreind. I felt bad. I figured I could call her, just not tell her where I was. She'd be really mad. I really did not want to call her.
In the midst of deciding to or not, I decided that it would be best to sleep it over.
When I woke up I knew that I had put it off for long enough.
I picked up the hotel phone and dialed her number. I waited for about four rings; figuring it would go to voice mail, I outlined my little speech for the voice mail. Then Bo-Jango answered the phone.
"Hey Bo-Fango, your gurlfriend is unable to pick up the phone right now."
"Jango, I told you not to call me Bo-Fango." I told him "And what the hell are you doing to her?"
"Nothin' I swear" he claimed, "I jus came over to ask her where you where because I figured you'd be nice enough to tell her."
"What happened?" I asked with fear.
"Turns out she's suicidal. Yeah she's on the roof right now."
"Can't you stop her?"
"I wuz trying to but then her phone rang, and I had to answer it because I'm the most Bo-Jangalin' guy around."
"Uh, yeah that's great Jango."
"Yeah, she's still on the roof over..." He paused "I swore I just saw her a second ago... Oh! I get it now. Looks like she jumped dude. Sorry about that."

Another passage from my Short Story "A Wonderful Life"

How is the action and dialogue described in the scene?

Juliet, while holding a sleeping Marcie in her arms, stands on the outside of Adam’s room and watches Jim as he makes his way down the staircase. She turns her head in disagreement and enters the bedroom. “Adam honey, come on wake up. Wake up baby, we need to go get your sister,” she says yanking on his sleeve.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” he says still half asleep.

“Just get up Adam, we need to leave.” He sits up with his eyes still closed and gets out of bed. Juliet, while continuing to hold Marcie over her shoulder, takes Adam’s left hand and begins walking out of the room. When they get to the door the sound of gunfire pierces through the house, rendering Juliet motionless. The sound immediately propels her and the kids backwards onto the bed in grave fear. Marcie wakes up and begins to cry. Tears well up in Juliet’s eyes as her heart begins beating double its normal rate.

“Mom, what was that?” Adam asks. “Was it a gun?”

Juliet, still shocked by what she just heard, continues lying on the bed coddling her two children in each arm. Her life begins flashing before her eyes as she thinks about the possibility of that loud noise resulting in the death of her husband and children’s father. She pictures him lying still on the floor of their dining room gasping for his last, dying breaths. Then she loses it. Adam looks up at her noticing tears tumbling off her cheeks and can’t help himself but do the same.“Mom! Was that a gun?” he asks again.

“Yes, honey. It was.”

Excerpt from "Stuck"

This is an excerpt from one of my short stories about a group of teens who work together and are locked in the store one night after closing.

The others were also sending explanatory texts and were silent as they typed. Then Leila looked up from her Intensity 2 and looked around her small group of work friends. Bridgette was slouched over, her short, chestnut hair pushed behind her ears, fiddling with her oversized Patriots jersey. Next to her was Kelly, who had her long, curly brown hair pulled up in a loose bun. She was fixing her black scarf over her yellow shirt so it fell just so, although it was probably just so she had something to do. Sasha sat next to her, her cute flowered tank top and blue cardigan now much cuter without an ugly maroon vest over them. She was using her phone’s screen as a mirror and was reapplying mascara out of annoyance. Darcy sat next to her, her brightly colored school sweatshirt matching her bright, bubbly personality. She was humming quietly and swaying in her seat, surely trying to think of some story to share with the rest of the group. That’s just how she was; it would be just like her to ignore a question that was posed to the group and instead try to think of a way to turn conversation to her. Then there was Adam. Leila couldn’t say he was unattractive; he was tall and lean, but his short, dirty blond hair, average facial features and the dotting of acne across his face, though not terrible, made Leila wonder why so many of the female cashiers found him to be so hot. Regardless, she watched as he looked up at the skylight in the ceiling, clearly bored. Leila then looked down at herself, twirling a lock of her black hair around her index finger. She wore a raspberry colored top under a black zip-up hoodie- her normal RJs attire. Her black Etnies and studded belt were the only personality she allowed in her outfit, considering that personality required effort and effort to get ready for work hadn’t been something she wanted to put in. Honestly, who wanted to go to work on a Saturday night, especially when the place treated their employees like crap, where the customers treated the employees like crap and where problems were expected to happen? And really, what sort of place didn’t value its employees enough to call in security to get them out of the building when they got locked in because of their old, senile manager?

Is this section too wordy? Also, does it give you a good feel for each character and what makes them all different?

Story Excerpt

Suddenly, a crowd begins to run down the sidewalk towards us. I hear several loud bangs and screaming. “He’s got a gun! Get down!” A man shouts and he runs towards us. I drop Charlie’s popsicle on the ground and grab his hand. He starts to cry. “My popsicle!” He cries, tears welling up in his eyes. I yank on his hand, begging him to run with me. “Charlie, we’ll get a new one we have to go!” I yell at him over the roar of the crowd. I hear a few more shots and louder screaming. My heart thumps out of my chest. I look for a safe place to hide. Charlie wiggles his hand out of my palm and begins to run towards the popsicle. “Charlie!” I call out his name. I try to make my way through the crowd but no one seems to budge. Charlie easily sneaks through the sea of people. “Charlie!” I shout again, pushing myself as hard as I can against the crowd. They push me forward and urge me to continue running in the opposite direction. I silently pray that Charlie will be okay. I finally manage to shove myself into the crowd and run to where I last saw my son. I drop to my knees when I find a half melted popsicle on the sidewalk, and my son is gone. I wake up screaming.

Do you think the writing in this scene is too repetitive? If so, is there anything I could add to make it less repetitive?

Part of short story 'Undeterminable'

...What Kelsey didn’t realize, was that Alisha was also extremely upset by the loss of their father. She would admit, if asked, that she was nowhere near as close to him, as he and her younger sister had been; but nonetheless, he was her dad too. Alisha felt a lot of guilt for leaving when she did, and saying some things she said to him. Her and her father’s last conversation had not been a pleasant one, and she regretted much of what she said. Now she would never have the opportunity to apologize, or tell him that she loved him.
It was a warm, sixty degrees outside. The two girls had the car windows down; letting the humid breeze dance across their faces.
There was music playing now to slice through the awkward silence between them. They still, had nothing to say to one another- not yet. They shared an occasional glance at each other, and made eye contact. It only took a few short seconds for Alisha to refocus on the road in which, she was driving along and Kelsey would then focus her melancholy gaze, out the passenger-side window.
Finally, they pulled into the driveway of a large, yellow house. It looked like it was two-stories, from the outside. In front, were rose bushes and what looked like lilies; but Kelsey was not certain. There were tons of windows. From the driveway, Kelsey saw an open bay window on the first floor. A dim light was glowing from inside, and the unfamiliar scene made Kelsey uneasy.
“Are you coming?” Alisha asked sweetly, as she got out of her car.
“Yeah…” Kelsey replied with hesitation. “This is your house?”
“Well, it’s our house now. Welcome to our humble abode.”
“Th-Thanks.” she said unsteadily.

I know you're a little blind about what exactly is going on, but how are the descriptions in this section of my short story? If they aren't giving you a vivid image, what would help?

Get Out, or Die Trying (Excerpt)

There is an annoying drip of water, or some kind of liquid in the corner of this cell. It seems like I am underground somewhere, because this room has no windows, or glass to see out of. It has one door that is locked and blends into the cement walls that surround it. The only reason that I know it is a door is one, because I was half conscience when we walked in; and two, because there is a barred window at the top of the door. I wish I could remember why I was here, or how I got here. Last thing I remember was casually walking down my street to Mrs. Null’s home. And after that I recall waking up in a dimly lit hallway that smells, almost as strongly as this room being carried by a man. I can’t recollect what exactly he looks like because it was nearly impossible to open my eyes; it felt as though weights were holding my eyelashes down.

Can you picture the anxiety from the character's perspective?

Luna City Or Bust!

I went for a walk to see the new world I had jsut come to. After about ten minutes of hopping and bouncing like a kangaroo, I found the place where I was supposed to be.

There were lightseverywere, shining from the blackness that surrounded everything. There weren't any roads, paths, signs or traffic lights. There were no parking lots or gas stations or pay phones or telephone poles

Everythign was clear, almost as if it weren't really there- but if you looked from the right angle, an entire city of bubbles appeared. The buildings, if you want to call them that, were circular, not square. Windows weren't necessary since the whole place was transluscent.

Does this draw a good picture? Is the description weak?

a part of my short story, Missing...

After the meeting with Ernest, Nina went back to her room to look for the KEY. She looked everywhere, in her room, for that thing. Then she began looking in her parents’ office.
“What the hell was that?” she looked around the room to see where the noise was coming from. The noise sounded like a faint murmur or low moaning, it was coming from the closet. She took her pocket knife from her pocket, and headed towards the door. Without thinking she opened the door and turned on the light, it was Alfred. The closet was very small inside do to the shelve that went for the top of the closet to the bottom full of paper and other office supplies. Alfred looked extremely cramped do to his size.
“ALFRED…”

He was tied up with chains with a lock on it, and gagged. She undid his gage and tried to pick the lock to release the chains.

“Nina, are you all right?”

“Yes... yes I am why and what happened to you?”

“Early this morning there was a knock on the door and I thought that it was Ernest being
extremely early again.”

“What do you mean, I just saw you ten minutes ago.”

“It's not safe here anymore... Nina what did I look like?”

“You looked like you... except for a small tattoo of a pale blue dragon by his collarbone and a scar over his left eye.”

“Go up to your room then pack a bag of clothes, and stuff you can't live without. Ok?”

“Ok, but why?”

“That man wants you dead.”

“WHAT... why?”

“That man belongs to a gang called The Sunil Drakes. The Sunil Drakes kill people who
know about rare military security or anything to have that could make a “breach” in the system… And their symbol is a pale blue dragon.”

to be continued...

What should I do to add more suspense in this passage?

Excerpt of The Mini, Magical Adventure of Arta and Friends

Arta was glad there was no school. It was Saturday a day to relax. So Arta got up later than she usually does for school. She showered, changed, and headed out. She met up with Stella, Musa, and Lacus at the coffee shop in the cafeteria. They grabbed four white chocolate mochas iced with whip cream. They went outside to the picnic table near the cafeteria. As they were chilling and drinking their mochas,

“Ah… a nice day to enjoy some ice mochas and hanging with my friends,” Arta said. They smiled and nodded in agreement.

“I wish everyday was like this,” Musa said. They all sip some of their mochas and glazed at the beautiful view of clear blue skies. A few minutes later, they headed out to downtown to look and buy dresses for homecoming dance. Downtown was only ten minutes away from school. Her family’s business was in downtown. They visited Artitude Inc. but everyone was busy with designing the stage of a fashion show. Artitude Inc. is a business that designs for events, parties, and create products for printing and designing. They have many stores that sell their products. Everyone in Artea loves the events and parties Artitude Inc sponsors for. Every major company in the world would want Artitude Inc as a sponsor for their event or party. Arta, Musa, Lacus, and Stella tried on a lot of dresses. Arta came out of the changing room in a yellow, one strap, and sparkling, long dress she was trying on. Then Lacus says,

“You should totally wear that to the homecoming dance.” Arta says back

“I should, it’s next weekend.” She danced with excitement. So Musa says while changing in the changing room,

“Also we all get to debut our new album and sing it at the dance.” She starts humming one of their songs. Then Stella says,

“I think I’ll wear this dress to the dance, Arta.” Stella came out in an orange, strapless, long and leathery dress. The girls give a thumb up. They bought the dresses they picked. Musa’s dress that she bought was red, long, silky, and straps on the shoulders. The dress Lacus bought was purple, long, straps on the arms and shiny.

Is it a good dialog with detailed description? If not, how can I improve it?

Modern Hermit Learning to Socialize

The next few weeks after that feel like they had been ripped out of some else’s life story and glued into mine. A little over a month ago, my closest companions had been my fish and my indignant manager. Now, I took the time to stop every morning and talk to Kevin on the stairs before he had to go off to the fabulous world of accounting. I visited Nina in the evenings. She introduced me to a bunch of foreign T.V. shows that she loved. We spent a lot of time cooking and tearing through her box set of 7 Vidas, which was like the Latin American version of Friends. She had to turn on the subtitles so that I could enjoy the show too. Whenever the translated subtitles didn’t do the actual dialogue justice, Nina would pause and give me a better translation. I didn’t find it annoying at all, in fact, a lot of the jokes went over my head until Nina explained why a certain Spanish word plays were funny in certain circumstances, or gave me the cultural background to understand why particular mannerisms or actions were simultaneously inappropriate and hilarious. She took me with her to the grocery store once, to Shane’s relief, to show me how to pick out the best the best cooking ingredients.

So, the main character in this story has social axiety but has recently made two friends in her appartment building. In this paragraph I wanted to show her learning to open up a bit more. What could I write here to show her lingering reclusiviness?

3-18-11 publishorperish

"As they walked, they talked about all of the things they’d always dreamt of. He told her that all his life he hoped he would find someone special; someone who truly meant the world to him. She was that person. He told her that he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. She smiled back, telling him that she, too, wanted nothing more than to spend her life with him. She loved him, there was no denying that. They leaned in toward one another to share a tender kiss.
That hot July day, spent on the beach would be a day she would never forget. She had never felt so happy and was more at peace with her own life, than ever before. He was every hope, wish and dream she ever had, all wrapped up in one. The only word to describe it was; bliss. "

This writing exercise was done in only a few minutes, but I’m basically wondering what you think of it? Would this make a good story, if continued/more detailed?

Vocab Quiz

In 2028 money is tripe. Only food and clean water are worth anything. The leaders are jussive and they hardly do anything. There are many riots and murders which are ignored. People in other countries quip at our failing society. Every day is a battle and the sun beats down relentlessly through the polluted sky. The cities look similar to the one in the movie Soylent Green. The easiest way to get food is to acquire an ovicide to kill eggs. The only source of water is a well in the middle of the city, which dries up in the summer. During this time the most murders and deaths occur.

Do you think I used the vocab words correctly or do they sound awkward?