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    Night Descriptive Writing

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    to take a nap. Within minutes my eyes started to droop‚ I just couldn’t keep them open. Then without even realizing it‚ I was fast asleep. I woke up when the bus hit a speed bump. I looked at the time. I would be late to my art classes if the bus wouldn’t hurry up. A few minutes later‚ the bus came to a stop and we got off. We walked up 3 blocks and turned left. We had finally reached the building. I walked in and immediately took my art supplies out of my bag. My teacher told me to draw the statue

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    Fire Descriptive Writing

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    While the mob and their torches believe I am still on the other side of their camp‚ I waste no time in setting off my last great plan for this morning. While it may be true that they dug their fires into pits in the ground to hide from me‚ they will regret making it so easy for me to access them. Gripping my filth ridden rod tightly I make a final jab‚ into their very own fire pit‚ striking it as though it were one of the petty brigands. It doesn’t take very long for the rod to become engulfed in

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    Storm Descriptive Writing

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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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    Valentine held tried to hold the wheel steadily‚ despite his shaking hands. They dripped with sweat beneath his sticky leather gloves. He used to never mind the warmth and humidity of the steam as it wafted past his nose‚ but today it choked him‚ as if he was trying to breath fresh air but only the dreaded heat of many engines filled his lungs. The sky seemed filled with such a wet haze‚ perhaps created by the many airships that filled the sky. Valentine has never seen so many ships in one place

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    As I sprint across the hot sand that burns the soles of my feet‚ the smell of salt water and sunscreen hits my face. I can see teenagers nearby as they dive to save a falling volleyball‚ covering themselves in grains of sand. While I’m preoccupied‚ watching the intense game of volleyball‚ the cold waves of the Atlantic Ocean come crashing down on my legs. I can hear my best friend‚ Tara‚ dying of laughter as my body tries to adjust to the temperature of the sparking turquoise waters. Surrounding

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    we began becoming drunk. I don’t know about the two of them‚ but I certainly noticed‚ I couldn’t walk in a straight line anymore and I barely knew what I was saying. We practically did not know anyone there and yet conversations between others‚ my friends and I seemed to sprout out like we were close acquaintances. From the principal of a school to an alcoholic‚ the types of people there were a plenty and we had them all! For a group that have never been to South Manchester‚ we somehow managed

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    Ocean Descriptive Writing

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    struggled with my buoyancy; I don’t know how fast I sank‚ but it was more than one foot per second. The pressure was intense. I needed to equalize; I pushed the air connector on BC-jacket to get a shot from the tank to counteract my sinking‚ letting the air out slowly to descend at a proper rate. I moved one step up‚ two steps down until I touched the ocean floor. The echoed sound of my breathing jolted out of sync with my movements. A thermocline from above and below traveled through my wetsuit. The

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    Bike Descriptive Writing

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    My bare feet chafe against the rough plastic of my bike pedals. I pedal as fast as I can‚ but it’s still not fast enough. A colossal headwind slows me down‚ making me work twice as hard to go half as fast. I need to get to the beach before dark‚ and I can already see the sun setting through the careening trees. To my relief‚ the sharp smell of salt and decomposing seaweed soon fills my nostrils. Despite everything‚ I manage to smile at the thought of all the euphoric memories I associate with the

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    I knew he was leaving. I could see the anxious anticipation in my mothers body language in the days before. I knew he was leaving. I coud hear him still rummaging around in the closet‚ carefully selecting the uniforms that he would wear when he was gone. I felt a slight pain in my chest knowing that I would now become the man of the house once again. I saw him lay his duffel bag along with his carry on in the corner of the living room that he and I had painted the month before. I glanced up to the

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    Beach Descriptive Writing

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    already filled my nostrils. The temperature was already in the eighties and my lip had developed a fine sweat mustache. I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had arrived at the landing site fifteen minutes early; this allowed me time to get my gear organized and wonder the quiet landing site. As I stepped out of the truck‚ the door squeaked open. I gave it a heavy‚ handed push to close‚ as it was old and didn’t always shut the first try. The slam echoed through the deserted park. In my hand‚ I firmly

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