Descriptive writing – Train I walked up to the main entrance from the usual route I took every morning. The walls of the Train Station were panelled with clean cut glass there was no brick to be seen only large panels of glass and the occasional clean cut white glossed plates perfectly aligned with one another and reflecting the early morning sun. The building was contemporary; full of sharp edges‚ corners and vertical lines cutting through the city vista. As clean and neat as the building was the
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person on our team. He leaped as high as he could and he stuck the ball to the ground. We were all cheering and throwing our fist into the with joy. I crouched under the net and shook everyone’s hand and said‚ “That was a great game. I had a lot of fun. It was nice meeting you by the
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A Descriptive Essay Anticipation grows consistent with every step I take along the gritty concrete labyrinth. Beneath a blazing sun‚ the smell of baked asphalt‚ sugary cola‚ and pretzel surround me. I follow the unpainted‚ gray chain fence that leads me forward. Overhead the deafening whirl of metal and screams briefly fill the hot air. The consistent drone of greasy motors and hissing pneumatics engage my curiosity. My heart rushes like a child on Christmas morning about to receive a favorite
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I sigh lowering into an old wooden chair seated in a corner of the small shop I happened upon. Placing my warm drink on the rickety table‚ I stare out a nearby window and give a slight shiver. Grabbing the edges of my worn wool coat I pull the old coat tighter. The action doesn’t do much itself‚ but it makes me feel better. I look outside again‚ my eyes drifting over dull‚ empty markets‚ the slow rain drizzles down the pane of glass as I continue to look outside. A heavy cloud of gray has been hanging
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delved into the written word I began to recognize writing as a powerful tool for expression. I turned to poetry and short stories to capture childhood moments‚ expanding my vocabulary and becoming skilled at transferring raw emotions and ideas onto paper. My parents encouraged me to make frequent trips to the library‚ and I often staggered home beneath the weight of a pile of novels. When I entered high school as a published author and poet‚ my writing continued to mature. Although I still marveled
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The streets were empty again‚ as they had always been. A short breeze blew across the cracked roads of the city‚ and a deafening silence hung in the air. How long had I been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? It was like time had been compressed - or maybe it had expanded. Battered street lights towered around me with their cracked light bulbs. As I continued down the broken path before me‚ rocks and concrete slid and crunched beneath my steps. The torrid heat of the afternoon stung my skin‚ and the
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It was outside. The outside runs were nice and simple but yet fun enough for a cute dog to be widley entertained by it. On the ground were rubbery woodchips and colorful rocks. In each corner was a light blue‚ plastic kiddie pool which water rippled in the afternoon breeze and a green mailbox by the entrance or the
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The violent rattle of the train crawling along the tracks shook me awake. If only it had been a dream. I lifted my head and looked around‚ taking in the sheer horror that marked everyone’s face. The tears‚ the sweat‚ the cries of the children. I closed my eyes‚ took a deep breath‚ and stood up. I could barely move around the cramped car‚ but I looked up to the window. The bleak landscape rushed by‚ just as it had yesterday‚ and all I could think of is where we were going. Somewhere in Poland‚ someone
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My buckling legs trudge towards the fireplace to resume my task.The aching in my back resorts to unbearable as my hand reaches for the metal bucket.I squeeze the side of my rib in hopes of lessening the pain but it gets worse. It gets really worse. Unable to bear it any longer‚my knees buckle and I fall on the hardwood floor.My hands grip my sides‚hoping to stop the sudden pain‚but my attempts are futile. My bones crack as I crouch down in agony.But I know I can’t stay on the floor any longer
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A Terrifying Night Long story short‚ I was terrified‚ even a long night of partying plus the fact that we were drunk‚ couldn’t stop the trembling! Now were standing here engulfed in fear wondering what would happen next. The three had gone for a long night of partying in light of Mike recent graduation at the University of North Manchester. We drove for miles just because Mike said that there was a great bar just off South Manchester. The road he made us take was an aged‚ unmaintained road
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