Personal Narrative: A Moving Car
Every morning, I ride to school with my mother in her car. She drops me off at school on her way to work.
My mother’s car is a blue sedan. With four doors. It had chrome strips on both sides and a chrome grille in front. The outside mirror on the right side is neat. It is actually two mirrors, one of which has a curved surface. That lets her see cars that are driving right beside her.
Inside, the car is very comfortable. I have often enjoying sitting in its cushioned leather sets. Of course, I always am wear my seatbelt whenever I ride in a moving car.
The seat belt is snug and makes me feel safe, as I stare out the window and watch the houses and trees raced by.
The floor of my mother’s car. Is very cluttered because she is a furniture salesperson.
My mother’s car is a blue sedan. With four doors. It had chrome strips on both sides and a chrome grille in front. The outside mirror on the right side is neat. It is actually two mirrors, one of which has a curved surface. That lets her see cars that are driving right beside her.
Inside, the car is very comfortable. I have often enjoying sitting in its cushioned leather sets. Of course, I always am wear my seatbelt whenever I ride in a moving car.
The seat belt is snug and makes me feel safe, as I stare out the window and watch the houses and trees raced by.
The floor of my mother’s car. Is very cluttered because she is a furniture salesperson.