Descriptive writing on satis house As I approached Satis house inside of my carriage I could feel the nerves growing inside of me. I got close to the rusted gates and stopped I had to get out and walk up to the old withered gates. I felt my feet stick to the ground and I found it quite hard to breath. The sounds around me was getting very load like I was standing next to a roaring plane even know I was getting further away I could hear the crows in the background and the snorting horses. When
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such “small” presents as $100 Lego or a Barby’s house in 6 rooms and garden furniture. Therefore‚ I thought that Disney Land was a good invention for loving parents.” The Sacred Grove of Oshogbo by Jeffrey Tayler The following essay contains descriptive language that helps to paint a vivid picture for the reader of an encounter with a man. “As I passed through the gates I heard a squeaky voice. A diminutive middle-aged man came out from behind the trees — the caretaker. He worked a toothbrush-sized
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it was a cold grey day in late September. The weather had metamorphosed overnight‚ when a backing wind brought a granite sky and a mizzling rain with it‚ and although it was now only two fifty-seven in the afternoon the ashen hue of a winter evening seemed to have closed upon the hills‚ cloaking them in mist. It would be dark by five o clock. The air was clammy cold‚ and for all the sealed windows it still penetrated the interior of the carriage. The leather seats felt damp to the hands‚ there must
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Absolutely nothing in this known world can break the silence—the room was lifeless. The floorboard painfully cries under the teacher’s fantastic high-heeled shoes; it invades the monastic stillness. Under the scrawls of a madman‚ written in a jet-black marker that has seen the end of its days a long time ago‚ slivers of the once pure whiteboard remains. My eyes dart towards the window as I stare at the barren tree branches; they shiver‚ afraid‚ in the thick cold and velvety air of winter. As my stoic
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Thus‚ comfortably seated with a pen on hand in the warm confines of my bed room‚ I started to pour down my thoughts into writing‚ quietly praying that he will be able to know‚ at least the extent of my emotions… Briefly written in a small parchment‚ I folded the paper into four and noticing how it started to our heavily outside‚ I pulled out my drawer and produced a red folded
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Teaching a Descriptive Writing Gender: Grade :5 Date:25.Nov.2013 Time:45 minutes General Goal(s): ◆ students will learn the elements of descriptive writing. ◆They will understand the parts of a descriptive paragraph ◆will be able to generate a descriptive paragraph. Teacher Instructions Objectives: ◆ Students will identify the elements of descriptive writing. ◆ Students will write to describe using all five senses. Outcomes: At the end of class student are expected to be able
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Describe the scene at a train station It is 8 o’clock in the morning at Liverpool train station‚ the busiest hour throughout the whole day‚ it’s also known as the rush hour. Trains of all imaginable colours gradually draw to a halt‚ causing a slightly burned smell from the brakes. As the automatic doors fly open‚ continuous flows start of people shoving and pushing‚ rushing to get off into the already crowded station. The noise of the tannoy is hidden beneath the murmur of the crowds of people
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I remember the events of 9/11 like they were yesterday. The enormous‚ burning building collapsing to the ashy ground‚ people desperate to stop the plane that was being flown at 600 miles per hour‚ the impact of when the plane collided with the building‚ the screams and cries for help‚ along with my fellow passengers calling their loved ones to say they’re not going to make it. Yes‚ I said my fellow passengers. My name Lauren Kriewitz‚ and I am a survivor of the treacherous 9/11 attack. My flight
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Imagine you just finished working your nine to five job and your boss is livid at you for not finishing your project by its deadline. You’re frustrated and want to get home. You stroll into the subway station and board the train en route to your house. You take a seat at the back of the train and just sit there with anguish on your mind. The train shuts its doors and the train starts moving forward. It’s a chilly winter evening and there’s a thunderstorm brewing outside. The wind is fierce‚ ricocheting
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The Fosdyck family is running through the airport‚ pulling our suitcases behind us. Parents all around us are doing a mental roll-call to make sure they haven’t lost any little ones along the way. Outside the huge glass windows that line every corridor‚ airplanes’ engines are heard. We board our flight‚ kids‚ parents‚ and grandparents‚ and buckle up. We stayed in a cabin on the beach. When I say beach I mean a rocky‚ windy shoreline with lots of ocean spray. My brothers played outside and chased
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