"Descriptive writing on beginning to cry" Essays and Research Papers

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    Descriptive writing – Train I walked up to the main entrance from the usual route I took every morning. The walls of the Train Station were panelled with clean cut glass there was no brick to be seen only large panels of glass and the occasional clean cut white glossed plates perfectly aligned with one another and reflecting the early morning sun. The building was contemporary; full of sharp edges‚ corners and vertical lines cutting through the city vista. As clean and neat as the building was the

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    field. They started getting closer but not because they were moving‚ I was. Against my will I started ascending while the others as confused and frightened as I was followed. As we walked along a dark chilly hallway I was scared‚ when I’m scared I cry but surprisingly my eyes were rather dry. I could hear a catchy and familiar tune in the distance. As we walked it got louder until I could make out what it was and then we stopped. I felt something wet on my cheek and used my hand to wipe it off.

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    Tyson Descriptive Writing

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    reread the text messages over and over again as I shoveled a spoonful of cold‚ creamy‚ coconut ice cream into my mouth. “Tyson is typing…‚” appeared on my screen and I quickly tapped out of the conversation. “I’ve got to go‚” said Tyson. I began to cry in the arms of my best friend. I realized how grateful I was to have her. Alexis quietly but clearly told me‚ “Everything will be okay. Even though things aren’t okay now‚ they will be.” This experience taught me how everyone and everything in life

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    Sky Descriptive Writing

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    falls silently and almost discreetly as it taps the dusty earth. Each drop gets heavier as the ground below begins to drench. The rain falls faster now‚ the relentless cascade of water from the purplish bruised sky brings a picture of sorrow. The sky cries as if the brutal blades of the undying lightning tore the heavens. The rain pelts my icy skin‚ paralysing my already motionless figure. This destructive power seems never to want to

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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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    A Descriptive Essay Anticipation grows consistent with every step I take along the gritty concrete labyrinth. Beneath a blazing sun‚ the smell of baked asphalt‚ sugary cola‚ and pretzel surround me. I follow the unpainted‚ gray chain fence that leads me forward. Overhead the deafening whirl of metal and screams briefly fill the hot air. The consistent drone of greasy motors and hissing pneumatics engage my curiosity. My heart rushes like a child on Christmas morning about to receive a favorite

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    Storm Descriptive Writing

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    Her heels‚ two sizes too small‚ clack as she walks down the narrow street. The long journey has taken a toll on her feet. Loud cries throb in the mind as her feet beg her to take her shoes off‚ the backs of them rub against her heels. Tall buildings like giants‚ tower above‚ fingertips brushing the pitch-black sky. The moon‚ a frozen sun‚ creating dancing shadows like a puppeteer. Her shadow‚ tall and slender‚ portrayed before her making her aware of her bad posture. The taste of the coldness of

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    Loss Descriptive Writing

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    The lazy afternoon sun plants hot kisses on the nape of my neck as I drift up the garden path and towards the house. It’s the kind of heat that dries out your skin and chaps your lips. Towing an armful of bulky paper shopping bags‚ I slip through the side gate‚ shaded by the sweet smelling jasmine that climbs up the wooden fence palings. “Monet!” I shout‚ my eyes dart back and forth‚ surveying the empty yard. A heavy silence follows. My forehead prickles with worry when no little white dog with

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    brother and we had walked into an unusually ruthless fight between our parents. The fights were common‚ however the severity of this one was not. I escorted Alexander up to his room and sat there with him. Seeing mom and dad like this always made him cry. We were still close‚ even though there was a significant age gap between us. As he cried‚ I sat by the door and began listening in on the argument. My dad had obviously became aware of the affair my mom was having. I continued to listen to him shout

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    Ocean Descriptive Writing

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    Naturally by this time my aching loneliness glides in like an empty cloud drifting afar in the dead of night. All presence of faith deserted long before the scorching sun inhaled its last breath‚ in order for the moon to be reborn. Yet unmistakably it’ll only be the sun welcoming my dispirited morning as any glimpse of faith is hushed by my heavy thoughts‚ which deeply desire to remain firmly rooted in my mascara stained pillow. A reminder of the all the endless nights I overfilled with enough tears

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