he descriptive essay is a genre of essay that asks the student to describe an object‚ person‚ place‚ experience‚ emotion‚ situation‚ etc. This genre encourages the student’s ability to create a written account of a particular experience. What is more‚ this genre allows for a great deal of artistic freedom (the goal of which is to paint an image that is vivid and moving in the mind of the reader). One might benefit from keeping in mind this simple maxim: If the reader is unable to clearly form
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A friend is someone who we enjoy spending time with. Everyone in the world should have friends because friendship is important for the emotional well-being of humans. Our need for social interaction and interdependent relationships is a survival instinct passed down through our genes. However‚ there is a certain kind of friendship that can never beat a normal one. This person that holds a special kind of friendship with you is normally defined as our best friend. Friends are easy to find‚ however
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Quaneisha Graham Professor Tasha Green English 1101 (MW) 13 September 2012 A Man That Holds My Heart Many people have ways of influencing others. Most people use words to affect other people. An amount of individuals would utilize their gift of persuasion to convince others of their causes or maybe arguments‚ while some use authority to force people to do as they are told. These several differences can apply to fathers as well. Not all fathers are similar when it comes to educating their
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Nestled deep within the Berkshire Mountains rests the small town of Westfield‚ Massachusetts. Every morning‚ a light‚ tepid fog settles among the quiet streets‚ devising a peaceful and calm atmosphere. Light winds gently brisk through the many oak trees‚ swaying the branches back and forth. From afar‚ the tall mountains border the limits of Westfield‚ forming a panorama of natural landscape. Fortunately‚ I was able to call the town of Westfield my home for many years. However‚ the town serves as
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descriptive essay house on fire The House on Fire That cold night of December 2004 had left behind a memory which will stay in my mind for a never ending period of time. That night was not the same as the rest of the days in my life. Instead of going to bed‚ that night I was standing in the middle of the road‚ in complete terror. My heartbeat was accelerating
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Like the antenna‚ I project myself to others. I like socializing and going out of my way to help people. All day‚ whether it may be in a conversational French class or on the Ultimate Frisbee field‚ I love talking to people. I listen to all my friends’ worries: cute boys‚ low grades‚ annoying parents‚ and hard teachers; I can even retract like the antenna‚ keep their secrets to myself‚ and secure their trust. My mother always keeps the ancient little cellphone in her cream colored Coach™ purse
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Adam Gardner Freshman English A 11/16/12 T/R 1:30PM Into the Wild Blue Yonder Most people will never get the chance to fly an airplane. They will never get to experience the thrill of soloing for the first time or the terror of dodging crows at 100 mph. Most people will be familiar with the sensation of your stomach settling somewhere around your knees or your throat while on a roller coaster‚ well‚ flying an airplane makes that feel like walking down a flight of stairs. First off‚ I have
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A cup of coffee On a grey‚ rainy‚ foggy day‚ the first thing that comes to my mind is a cup of coffee. On a sunny‚ happy day‚ the first thing that comes to my mind is a cup of coffee. Whether I feel like a “superstar” or not‚ all I need is one cup of deliciously‚ fresh-brewed coffee. Every morning it seems as if I am in a fog until that warm cup of coffee touches my lips. I can honestly say that I am addicted to this caffeinated beverage. The intoxicating scent helps open my eyes and get me energized
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I shot my best friend‚ Akin‚ in my home’s kitchen. He was not alone when I shot him; there was a man with‚ a stranger that shot back in defense. I was hit too‚ but felt no immediate pain‚ because was still able to manage a shot at the stranger‚ before I dropped to the floor with strange heaviness. The man ran towards me as I was falling‚ my mind told me he was coming to hasten my death‚ because I was badly wounded already. My neighbors‚ who accompanied me‚ were already on the floor. But to my surprise
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I woke up this morning to the sound of my alarm clock‚ charming like church bells when it strikes noon. I open my eyes; it’s bright from the early morning sun gleaming through the cracks of my blinds‚ bouncing off the four walls. As I lay in my bed thinking about today’s chores‚ they run through my head like a batter just hitting a home run. I finally motivate myself enough to walk down a flight of stairs that feels like a lifetime to go down. A silence breaks through the dusty air that I feel is
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