Brown House Descriptive Writing

He sits on the steps in front of his brown house. One foot on the sidewalk the other leg bent at the knee. The orange glow of his cigarette held inches from his yellowing teeth. From inside the house he hears shouting. He stands, his light washed jeans are worn down at the knees. He stubs the cigarette in green ceramic ashtray on top of the wooden banister. Taking out a lighter, he walks over to his car. Placing one foot on the gray rear bumper, he lights a second cigarette. The luminescent street light overhead hardly reaches him. Given the time of night, light comes from above leaving his face to look unequivocally gray. Silently, he stands for a moment; his eyes tracking each car that passes with minimal interest. The summer before last