"The beach the storm descriptive writing" Essays and Research Papers

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    Walking around the beach made me feel more comfortable than ever. As I stroll along‚ I could feel the soft smooth sand beneath my feet. The sand looked clean like sugar spread out for miles‚ as it squished between our toes and made my calves ache with every step. The sound of the ocean comforted me‚ the rhythmic pounding of the waves represses all my worries. I kicked the water and it responded with a swoosh of its waves. That brought back memories‚ when I used to come here with my friends and

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    A Terrifying Night Long story short‚ I was terrified‚ even a long night of partying plus the fact that we were drunk‚ couldn’t stop the trembling! Now were standing here engulfed in fear wondering what would happen next. The three had gone for a long night of partying in light of Mike recent graduation at the University of North Manchester. We drove for miles just because Mike said that there was a great bar just off South Manchester. The road he made us take was an aged‚ unmaintained road

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    Standing in the blazing sun I could feel my heart racing as I carefully scanned the field for the ball. I could see Choochi had possession and he was running towards me with a sinister smile. He took a stance a few feet away from me and gave me a nod as his leg swung back. Before I was able to see his foot make contact with the ball I heard it in the net behind me. He walked slowly towards me mockingly mirroring my facial expression. I saw his lips moving but I couldn’t hear over the rumbling. “Rumbling

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    Descriptive Writing Pool

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    The water is calm and undisturbed‚ not a ripple in the pool. A rush of ice water envelopes my body as I dive into the pool. I open my eyes and wait for them to focus in my new environment. As I come up for air‚ I smell the strong scent of chlorine around me. As I begin my first set of laps‚ water rushes into my mouth as I come up for air‚ the taste of chlorine is soon stuck in my mouth. Half way through my second lap‚ I hear the sounds of splashing and what sounds like cannonballs as people begin

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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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    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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