However Omar began to question Jealousy. Jealousy, that bitter, resentful one with eyes always watching. The envious one that dwells within us, often waiting. What forces compel Jealousy, and how do we rid of him? He lives deep within, invisible to the untrained eye. Lives deep within, listening to our heart's desires, waiting for the right time to take over. Been living there, scheming, craftily and cunningly. He was likely to find poison from his knife in his actions someday. He needed support and friendship too. Discouraged Paul! He shouldnt have to go to war on his own. He had the coach bring teammates show they support, but Paul refused. These teammates wuz good friends and players, but there aint nothin they could do to bring him out of this state. He'd be fine as soon as he practiced enough and could hit right pipe on a full speed split dodge, left-handed. He wasnt going to be jealous. That was what he thought. Though the coach told him the truth, so he knew what to expect. And even if he hadnt, soon enough he was likely to know, for his actions grew bitter, and his heart turned to stone. Teammates who would have spoken great things about him, avoided him altogether. Just sat there, pondering how he changed. Judgement, that muddy mess, had stained another life.
Other then using the same sentence structure as Hurston, I kept the pastiche vague, but at the same time I used creative verbs, adjective, and nouns to create emotion. I also kept the pastiche vague because when I read Hurston's passage about Death, it made me further ponder Death, rather then just a bunch of words, Death came to life(no pun intended) and that is what I tried to accomplish with Jealousy.
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