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

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    Prison Descriptive Writing

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    The world seems hazy‚ like clouds have drifted into my vision and blinded me‚ forcing me to rely on my other senses. I listen‚ open up my ears to the world‚ but hear nothing except the occasional thud of heavy‚ ghost-like footsteps off in the distance. And then it is quiet‚ everything goes quiet‚ like all sound has been voided out of my ears‚ gone forever‚ leaving me trapped inside a prison that I don’t know how to escape. Suddenly‚ I feel the pounding in my head‚ a sharp‚ shooting pain‚ that

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    It is a bright sunny day; the sky a soft shade of blue and a slight breeze in the air. It was a day of beauty‚ a day with no soul inside but rather enjoying the delightfulness outside. Stepping out‚ the concrete on the porch is steamed just enough to stand on bare foot. Off in the distance is the vision of feet coming into sight every couple of seconds as the swing is pushed up. Drivers pass in cars‚ each in their own trail of thoughts. The windows of every car are rolled all the way down and diverse

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    Night Descriptive Writing

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    All I heard was dogs barking. I rolled over and looked at the time. It was 6:48. I got up and got dressed. Mom was already waiting for me downstairs. We went outside and walked down the road to the bus stop. I was so sleepy but I had already made a commitment and I just couldn’t back out. The bus came and we got on. It was so warm and toasty‚ the perfect atmosphere 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

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    Locker Descriptive Writing

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    CHAPTER ONE: The only decoration in my locker was an old ninja turtles band-aid stuck on the inside from someone in a previous year. I hadn’t bothered to peel it off. The blue paint was slowly peeling off and the lock only worked half the time. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and shook it out before grabbing my textbook out of the locker. My nails were bitten short with chipped blue nail polish. Last class I had destroyed them with anxiety. I shut my locker in frustration‚ knowing the next

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    1/21/14 Bumps and Bruises I’m tired and restless after a mentally draining day at school. There are blurred lights and angry drivers all around me as the tires of my car grind against the cold concrete. My dad pulls into the back parking lot and signals for me to get out of the car. I groan‚ knowing that I am in for a long practice‚ and slowly drag myself out of the front seat. I lug my hockey bags out of the trunk‚ and they become another nagging reminder of the grueling workout I’m

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    Sheep Descriptive Writing

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    I woke up one April morning with the chickadees chirping rapidly in the tree branches. I threw my pants and socks on and rushed down the stairs as the smell of fresh bread assaulted my nose. Mom was already awake and greeted me with a slice of crispy toast‚ the butter was perfectly melted and seeped into the crust one squeeze‚ and it oozed out and dripped on the floor. Once I put my boots on‚ my feet were excited and before I knew it‚ I was flying out the door. One step outside and the smell of melting

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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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    I stop at the edge of the graveyard. I am thoroughly equivocal about what to do. The wind whistles through the trees and the branches rattle the windows of a nearby building. My hands clutch the handlebars of my bike. I stare in the dark at the text message on my phone-- “ meet me in the graveyard at 9:00 and I’ll give you the photo.” My mind implores me to turn around‚ but my heart compels me to keep moving. The rain changes from a drizzle to a downpour. A whooshing sound startles me and I look

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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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    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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