"Ghost town short descriptive writing" Essays and Research Papers

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    I captured the sight of the sun rising through my blurred safety glass window‚ must be morning. Awakening in the same claustrophobic battle scarred room has been my life for 3 years now. Getting to my feet I peer through the withered cast iron bars of my cell to see the guards carrying out the routine cell checks. This time something was different. I see a guard broadcasting to a fellow officer for assistance a small number of cells down from me. I feel a cold shiver ran down my back. This occurs

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    The noise from the chattering crowd receded as footsteps reverberated from where I walked. I nervously stood in the centre‚ breathless. The violin in my hand was drenched with sweat and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. My only resilience and my Beta-blocker were the fellow companions standing with me. This was my first ever orchestra performance in a grand theater. I sat down facing the conductor with my legs still not under control. One signal from the conductor‚ I let my heart do all the

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    The cool breeze hits my face as I am sitting underneath a wood topped gazebo. This square designed structure makes me feel as if I am inside. The sun is peaking through with limited sunlight due to the soaring trees overhead. This space has an X shaped side walk cutting through a garden. The garden makes it feel very peaceful‚ but yet there is still commotion going on with students walking to class. People interact with this space in several ways. I see people sitting on benches enjoying the beautiful

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    The gut-wrenching screech of the whistle shook my ear drums‚ numbed my chest‚ and crippled my legs. Prior to this‚ Pine Richland had kicked a field goal that gave them a three point lead with only seconds left. We had one play to win: a kickoff return to hopefully save not only our season‚ but to justify the twelve years I had devoted to this game. As the ball was hopping down the field‚ I stood there trying to stop my hands from frantically shaking. After what felt like an hour‚ I could finally

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    Pulling up on this old beat down gas station. We all knew it was old when the sign was hanging loosely and swinging with the wind. My dad needed to put gas but I could see he was very skeptical. I rolled my window down getting closer to the gas pump‚ when I smell the most unpleasant scent I have ever smelt. I told my dad we would have to pay for the gas on the inside because the machine was so old that dirt and spider webs built up in the card machine reader. The buttons to the pump were all faded

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    The waves crashed at my legs. The sand stuck to my toes‚ parts of seaweed were stuck on my leg. The sun was burning my face. My arms and legs tingled with the thought of a shark attacking me‚ like on T.V. I shiver involuntarily‚ and bit my chipped nails. The day had started out like any summer day going to the beach. My family was hustling to get our beach bags in order to get in before the rush our. I was ready 30 minutes ago‚ but waited for my family‚ nevertheless. It was a pleasant day‚ the

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    As you gradually yet assuringly reach your way to the highest point of the lofty slope‚ you look to your side and see the ground beneath you creeping without end as you advance towards the skies. As you reach the top‚ your thoughts are muddled; fear‚ fervor‚ apprehension...As the cart arrives at a sudden stop‚ your heart is in your throat; you look to your front to see that you have reached the peak of giant slope. A silence hangs‚ as the riders get ready for the stomach-turning plunge. Before you

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    Sparta Essay By: Belle Cardwell The rain; it’s calming like my mother’s grasp around me‚ engulfing me with warmth. That is over‚ though. Today is the Flagellation Day. It’s the day that proves if you’re man enough to become a Spartan Warrior. The heavy beatings and rude nature of the Flagellation go completely against my name‚ Charis. Charis‚ in Greek‚ means loving‚ kind‚ or loyal. I decided a long time ago that I should just forget the meaning behind my name and focus on being a good warrior. The

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    My Computer I have an hp computer laptop. We’ll‚ it’s not actually mine because everyone uses it so I will not refer to it as mine. We’ve had it for about 7 months. Prior to this laptop we had a desktop computer. We had to get a laptop because the desktop computer malfunctioned due to a thunderstorm where it was struck by lightning. Anyway I’m supposed to be describing the laptop so that’s what I’m about to do in the next few paragraphs. The laptop is black. It has a silver logo on top of the face

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    He sits on the steps in front of his brown house. One foot on the sidewalk the other leg bent at the knee. The orange glow of his cigarette held inches from his yellowing teeth. From inside the house he hears shouting. He stands‚ his light washed jeans are worn down at the knees. He stubs the cigarette in green ceramic ashtray on top of the wooden banister. Taking out a lighter‚ he walks over to his car. Placing one foot on the gray rear bumper‚ he lights a second cigarette. The luminescent street

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