Isabella 9/13/13 4th period Descriptive Writing I reach my destination just as the sun begins its decent. Sighing contently‚ I sit down at the top of the cliff to observe the setting sun. On the left‚ the town lights up as the sunlight reflects off the shiny rooftops of the shops and business buildings. The glass windows and doors shine with a brilliance that cannot be seen up close but from a distance‚ it is magical. The pink aura encasing the town seems surreal as my eyes follow the people
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Descriptive writing – English Dubai has the tallest buildings and the largest malls‚ in the night the sparkly skies make me exited like a small child that has sweets‚ it is the city that never sleeps. At night the moment that the fireworks will bursts in the clear black sky‚ the people were on every Spot on the ground they were like the sun’s rays in summer. Suddenly I can see lime green rockets zooming it to a pitch black sky‚ amongst the twinkling white stars. Everyone looked incredibly amazed
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Ms. Gill ENG 3U – Per. 5 September 16‚ 2013 Descriptive Paragraph The much publicized meteor shower has finally arrived and is a much anticipated awaited aesthetic show. As I’m observing the dark night sky waiting for the gorgeous meteors to enter Earth’s atmosphere‚ I see the sensational stunning spectacular sparkling stars. While sitting on my porch in the small town of Malton‚ I hear a small owl chirping on my backyard tree and the soothing summer breeze gusting throughout the trees. I
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After waiting many hours in the airport lobby‚ the plane finally was ready at gate 42. I took one last look at where I had been sitting for the past two hours. As I walked toward the plane‚ I thought about all the terrible things and accidents that I had been through at my summer trip. Shake once I boarded the plane and tuck myself comfortably in the seat‚ the plane took off and started the journey toward the blue sky when I heard a rumble under my feet. I didn’t worry as I thought that it was
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The Fallen It is a beautiful day in New York City. You can hear a symphony of sirens and songbirds as the sun’s radiant beams dance among the clouds. There are people everywhere laughing and enjoying the day. Suddenly everything changes. Then the sound of a deafening explosion echoes through the air. A plane has just struck one of the infamous Twin Towers. Fire is blazing above as thick clouds of smoke roll out of the top of the North Tower. Another thunderous blow shatters the atmosphere. Then
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Dante Addona Observational Writing Assignment E-Block British Literature 11/2/12 When the floodgates open and water pours down from the sky there is nothing to do other than hope and pray that you are prepared for the storm‚ and what better a place to go for supplies then a Wal-Mart. People rushed in and out pushing up against each other like a school of fish swimming in tight quarters. In my sweats and hoodie‚ I strolled in trying to avoid getting pushed over while I noted a sign that read
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I could feel the cold. I could feel it against my crestfallen face. I didn’t know if I was ready‚ ready to never see anything I love ever again. I stepped up into the cockpit of my bomber‚ a Matte Black Avro Lancaster with four propellers at the front. It was huge but it flew well and was hard to see against the backdrop of the dark night sky. It had bombs stored in its metal hull and had guns at either end of it. I made a few swift movements. Flicking controls and pressing buttons‚ instantly
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At the Game Bright lights illumine the night sky. The distant roar of cheers and applause hits my ears—it is a Sunday night football game at the Chiefs. As my aunt and I walk to the gates‚ we are confronted by two massive men patting another down. We get closer to the gate and I hear the clicking of the tickets—a beautiful song in a surprisingly synchronized rhythm. We then walk to our seats fighting our way through the crowded channels of hallways. We find our seats—front row on the 50
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like it has been untouched for centuries. It looks almost normal. The piles of dust gather around the room‚ like big‚ plush pillows‚ ready to be rested on. My desk shouts out for a clean‚ books thrown around everywhere‚ without a care. The detailed writing merely fading of the hand written poem‚ fresh off the press‚ lying on a hardly ever used dictionary. As I turn in my chair memories come spiralling back. All the fun that came out of that one console‚ the thing that has moved on by so much now‚
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Ade was slipping her science book into her schoolbag when mama screamed. Two sharp cracks splintered the air. She had heard the sound of coming storm- still unknown to her- which had perhaps already done the damage. A cry of a man echoed through the solid walls‚ around the house‚ which sounded unfamiliar to Ade; she had never -in her life- heard her father cry. This was alone enough of an evidence to alarm her of the situation. Dumbfounded‚ her schoolbag dropped as her hand unconsciously loosened
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