The Trenches – WW1 I’m encapsulated in the unending nightmare of fear. The rain continues to bore on infinitely‚ pounding on the grubby ground and turning it into vast lakes of murky water. The miserable‚ grey clouds covered the sky‚ only letting a few rays of sun slip through. The monotonous sound of raindrops beating on the helmets of the soldiers thundered down like bullets. Everything was miserable‚ grey‚ and lacklustre. The thick layer of mud squelched beneath my feet as I struggled to walk
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“Ava‚ wake up!” My mom buoyantly nudged me awake. I peeled open my eyes‚ blinking away the tired fog‚ and glanced around. I was in the shiny‚ midnight black jeep my family was renting‚ which had become tan from being continuously splattered by sand and mud. The car was parked next to a small cottage belonging to ‚ caked in bright pink and yellow paint. Proud roosters with long‚ shiny‚ satin feathers‚ squawked noisily. Lazy goats waddled around‚ nibbling on vibrant green grass. Short trees covered
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Days like this when my body craved the shore. The waves lapped against the shoreline creating an intricate pattern along the smooth‚ off white sand. The sun shone off the rippling water‚ its golden light warped and distorted in the azure‚ glassy waves. Big‚ soft‚ puffy clouds floated over the blue skies making irregular shapes. The sight of the sky gave me a warm feeling inside. My troubles‚ my worries and my concerns‚ everything was momentarily forgotten as I looked out into the swaying great Australia
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Here I was‚ the roar of the waves so loud and powerful that it could block out one’s thoughts. Faces all around me‚ a sternness visible like none other seen before. The waves crashed over the top of our landing craft‚ by now the cloth of every man was soaked through‚ but there was a bigger problem… The gunfire started‚ the cracking of gunfire that has become so normal in these times‚ the ambience that man had become used to. Is this the sound of death? Nobody spoke‚ looks of fear and agitation
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The sun was glistening on the ocean as I glided in. Thinking to myself that this was the best vacation a fourth grader could have‚ I observed the ripples as I inhaled the sweet scent of the refreshing water. Boogie board in hand‚ I swam out farther to catch a wave. Soon‚ when I had not been paying attention‚ I realized I had gone out too far. That moment was the first most panic stricken I’d ever been. Noticing the splashes of the waves more than anything‚ I never became fully aware about how far
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Writing A Descriptive Essay To write a descriptive essay you first need to choose a character. It may be heroes‚ monsters‚ or none of these. You need to search for a book or poem. After you read the book or poem you choose the character that creates a distinctive impression on you. It may be from major characters to minor characters. You have to focus in the one scene where the character you choose attracted your attention. Use all information you can find from that scene in order to make
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the school bus.The barely graveled driveway seems as long as the road.Situtated in the middle of ten acres is a worn and faded domicile but thats not how it revealed to me. The lengthy front porch bordering the entire front of the dark-clored house always enlightened with the sun an mama’s brilliance. Aligned with taupe colored spindle rails that we would scramble through playing chase as children. Descending from the edge of the crest aligning the entire porch‚ were mama’s cheerully tinted corded
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arousing a huge portion of emotions. Somehow these fairy tale creatures can make children happy without 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.
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Lai Xu Per. 10 2-4-03 A House to Remember I have moved in and out of many houses throughout the years‚ but none of them were as important to me as the house in which I grew up. I must admit that this house‚ although enormous‚ was neither the nicest nor the most comfortable house‚ yet my nostalgic nature has propelled me to treasure that house above all others. Having parted it for almost ten years‚ some details of the house are out of my grasp. The memory of the house now stands as a symbol of
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Have you ever wished you could visit a place that no longer exists? I’m not talking about your favorite store that’s gone out of business‚ a restaurant that’s closed down or a place that’s still here but out of your reach. Even though I haven’t been there in over seven years‚ I remember every detail like I was just there yesterday. Maybe‚ it’s because I spent most of my childhood there I remember what it look like‚ feel like and smell like. But because this place no longer exists‚ I can only visit
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