"Descriptive writing outside of a house" Essays and Research Papers

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    following was a sensation in my arms and fingers that felt as though they wanted to fall off‚ and to top it off I couldn’t feel my face. While warming the baby’s bottle‚ that I heated up hot cocoa to relieve myself of my sorrows. Again‚ I peeked outside the window trying to dream up my husband’s return‚ all while pondering over the unpaid bill. The same unpaid bill that caused our present discomfort. From inside the front portion of my billfold‚ there money was stolen from the man that I impatiently

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    the young children are settled and securely strapped in to their seats. As you drive away from the house your mind is going over a list of belongings you have packed when you realize you ’ve forgotten something. Luckily you’re only a few minutes down the road so your dad turns round and drives back. Of course there is always one person who has forgotten to go to the toilet and comes back in the house with you as you hurried collect whatever you ’ve forgotten. After all that hastle you’re back in

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    The trees coated in cold powdered water‚ and the ground was submerged in it. At least 2 feet deep‚ I could not give you the width if I had wanted to. This expansive terrain ran in all directions‚ and frozen white powdered water would lay like an infection for months to follow. I had a thick coat. It was safe to say that I was perfectly secure until weather conditions furthered. Luckily‚ the weather had been at a still for the last day or two. The sun beamed down upon the land with relevancy. I stopped

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    Black Dog is based off of a stream of concious I did in February during one of my many routine walks through a cemetery near my house. It was night time‚ and everything was cold and damp. But the moon made this atmosphere that I just loved that I had to write about it. It should also be noted that it was around valentine’s day and I was thinking about my “perfect” mate (don’t judge me‚ you’ve done that before) This piece is also about on how I would be a “perfect” mate‚ and how I would have to change

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    The Chase My wrists started to ache terribly as I trudged along the hard concrete road. Usually‚ when I took this route home‚ I passed all sorts of strange looking people. Where we lived‚ was an odd place‚ the people there were very friendly‚ but sometimes too friendly‚ getting in the way of your private life‚ asking personal questions that you didn’t really know how to answer. But on this particular night‚ a humid night at that‚ there was absolutely no sound to be heard. Not even the squeal of

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    I used to always go to my grandparents house. Even though they haven’t lived in their old house in a while‚ I will always remember it. It is a place I loved and have many memories in. My grandparent’s house was my home away from home. They were very hardworking‚ caring‚ and strict and the way their house felt reflected their personalities. The house I will forever have embedded in my mind was located in the rural town of Bovina‚ Texas. This was the house my father and his twelve brothers and sisters

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    to their room with so much excitement. Walking into their room‚ I had to stop and take a deep breath. I knew the orphanage wouldn’t have much‚ but I never imagined how little they really had. Their room looked like it belonged to an old abandoned house. The ceiling caved in; it smelled of an old dusty attic and had nothing in it but 12 beds‚ 3 dressers and a couple dirty stuffed animals just lying around. Some girls had pictures of when they were babies‚ some didn’t have anything. I stood there silent

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    Eagle River No wifi. No Service. No way to connect to the outside world except through the ancient landline phone hanging on the wall labeled with the numbers of the Eagle River library‚ the home phone‚ and pizza take out. The door screeches open; the rustic smell of the cabin fills the air and the aged wooden floor gives a small creak when stepped on. The two cabins have room to hold three families at a time‚ however the quick race to claim the rooms soon begins. As always‚ the kids end up in the

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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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    9/11 Descriptive Writing

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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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