"Descriptive writing on an airport" Essays and Research Papers

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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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    The icy air whistles around my ears‚ causing my skin to tingle and sting. My fingers and toes are going numb while I’m walking through the deep‚ thick snow. Snug inside my many layers of clothes‚ nothing can spoil the overwhelming feeling of being taken back to my childhood winter days. The urge to make a snowball is all consuming and I have to restrain myself from lying down in the middle of the street to make a snow angel. Every step I take leaves a fresh‚ crisp footprint in the snow‚ as if I am

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    The colour black never represented me in any way‚ it had nothing to do with my nature‚ until now. Like an owl roaming around the lower east side of New York streets‚ we created the dark shadow of terror. Our masculine body armoured with a leather jacket and painted with absurd tattoos made society turn their heads towards the ground as we walk pass. As the sun goes down‚ the innocence of New York sleeps‚ while the predators hunt for their next victim. It was icy cold‚ yet we could bare it all.

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    The clouds coated the whole sky and created this cotton candy-like effect. The autumn air was crisp and there was a slight breeze from the north. Even though it was dull looking‚ the sky portrayed a calming tone. I always loved days like this. The wind pushed my long chestnut hair into my face and brushed against the hem of my favorite peacoat. I always noticed this as I walked from the parking lot to the school‚ but lately I noticed something new. Even though it’s a short walk‚ maybe a hundred feet

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    Karl English 10H One Day Down‚ One Thousand to Go I gazed up into the bleak morning sky and viewed the wafts of smoke‚ anything to take my mind off what was to come. The sound of the landing craft’s engines revved up indicating we were on our final approach. I gripped my Thompson and carefully glanced over it. The functionality of this gun could mean life or death for me and so it received my dearest attention. Suddenly

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    I sat there‚ stunned for an instant‚ listening to my coach announce the swimmers competing in the next race. Uneasiness rushed down my spine the moment my coach pronounced my name. My first race began in less than fifteen hours. The months of training before my competition built my endurance and confidence in swimming. I was prepared to tackle my first competition. When it came time to perform‚ the crowd was silent. I was on a ledge that was three feet above the water. I stared at the crystal blue

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    Tyson Descriptive Writing

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    Germany’s crisp winter air crept beneath the door as the beige-brown blanket held me tight. My phone read 11:30 pm and my eyelids began to feel heavy and started to slide down like blinds on a window. My body jolted as my phone vibrated in my hand. Tyson had sent me a text. It sounds cliché but Tyson was my everything. He was as tall as a tree and whenever we walked together I felt like an ant next to a skyscraper. His eyes were made of little caramel candies and they sparkled when the sunlight hit

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    The Rollercoaster! There was a hectic day lying ahead of me; the car park was more or less full now. Sun cream was slapped on by worried mothers and sun caps were plonked on top of children’s heads. Smiling faces jumped around‚ excited about the day ahead. The sun was beaming bright onto my face and I could see cars aligned together‚ in orderly rows like soldiers on parade. Walking towards the rusty and rigid gates of the theme park‚ they opened slowly and excited children flooded in. In the distance

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    Poland Descriptive Writing

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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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    Aquaw Descriptive Writing

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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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