Descriptive Narrative Essay I remember that warm day in May three years ago when my Dad and I went to an auction to buy myself a new car. We were surrounded by people as we stood in the middle of a muddy yard. I was holding a white card with a number on it‚ waiting for the Mustang I wanted to place a bid on. The auctioneer was a short old man with white wiry hair‚ two fingers missing on his left hand and the rough voice of a chain smoker. His name was named Mickey. Mickey began to auction
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Christina Casali 10/6/09 Descriptive Essay Goodbye Humidity‚ Hello Fall Foliage Finally the day has arrived‚ September 22‚ 2009‚ the official first day of fall. Most people may dread this day due to the fact summer comes to an end‚ school starts and cooler temperatures are on their way. Yet the fall season brings apple picking‚ pumpkin carving and much anticipated holidays. We must not forget the fall season also brings us that one more hour of sleep in the mornings when we turn the
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Descriptive Essay Hogwarts The most distinct setting of Harry Potter is Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a wondrous‚ magical building with many towers and turrets. It is home to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I find Hogwarts location‚ its castle‚ the grounds‚ and Quiddich fascinating. Hogwarts is built in a forested area said to be in Scotland. The castle is located atop a cliff overlooking a lake. The lake is south of the castle and the front entrance of the castle faces toward the
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Tammy Wright ENGL105S/ Introduction to College Writing Due Date: 10/15/2014 Descriptive Essay Portrait of A Mother’s Beauty…. My mother was one of the most beautiful‚ elegant women you could have ever known. The image of her‚ will forever be etched in my mind. Her beauty was very alluring‚ and her face was very captivating. Her high cheekbones caught your attention‚ because of the statuesque bone structure. My mother had the face of a movie star‚ very similar to the famous Lena Horne. She had
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Final Copy Descriptive Composition (#6): My Airport Passage Jet-black taxis and the shimmering lights of urgent security vehicles whizzed passed me as I patiently waited for a cease in the increasingly heavy airport traffic. As I stepped inside the newly-built extremely‚ modern airport‚ I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the kaleidoscope of bustling swarms of humanity; it was like a mixed rainbow of human skin – all different cultural backgrounds and colours rapidly moving around in a confused
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Ana Castillo Mrs. Elliott English 11 9 October 2012 Descriptive Essay: Tattoos Tattoos are created by inserting colored materials beneath the skins surface. The skin is penetrated with a sharp too. Today colored ink and an electric needle are the material and instrument of choice. Today the practice is popular with a vast cross section of the population. Within the United States‚ tattoos can be found on anybody from gang members to fashion models. The word tattoo comes from the Tahitian word
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English 101 Descriptive essay September 23‚ 2014 I have lived down by the water ever since I was a little girl. Going down to the jersey shore on a daily in the summer is a routine for me. Trying new things is always something exciting I like to do. This summer I tried something even more thrilling. I gave myself up to the ocean and the air in the sky for a day. An experience I will most definitely want to try again. This summer I took my first ride ever parasailing. The boat that took my boyfriend
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Just Like a Dream The place where I feel most comfortable is a place where I am calm. A place that is peaceful where I can go to escape all the pressures and worries of life. It is the place to go to soothe away all my problems and troubles in times of stress. It is the one place where I could sit forever‚ and never get tired of just staring into the deepest blue I have ever seen. It is the place where I can sit and think the easiest. A place where nothing matters but what is in that little
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return when they reach Brattleboro‚ Vermont. In Deerfield‚ all the villagers have gone to sleep like any other night before. It is now midnight‚ the French are making their final tunings and preparations for the attack. They began loading weapons‚ painting on war paint‚ and reviewing plans. It is now four in the morning‚ the village still dead silent‚ when the French decide to attack. The whole town is now awake‚ rushing to life. Some have found ways to escape‚ like jumping out windows or roof lines
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only life that had been in Marks flat was growing out of his mugs. The smell of foul mustard and loneliness filled the air of the forbidding suite; with it’s unpainted floor and its small‚ square windows. To the left of the front door hung a gloomy painting of a crying clown‚ which was as sad as the sunless sea. Mark left his grim flat‚ leaving the leaden bed that was as lonely as a whale in the vast ocean. He was slugging through the swarming crowd‚ as the lights glanced and the seagulls laughed. Mark
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