Descriptive Essay About My Day

The anticipation of this day had been building up for some time over that last few months, and now it was upon me at last. I didn’t feel the same excitement I had leading up to this moment, I even kind of grumbled to myself about how I wished the bus was bigger so that I would be more comfortable. We all had our assigned seats, but no one seemed to be where they were supposed to be. The anxiousness of getting to Colorado was causing a great deal of confusion, chaos, and

On October 6th, 2016 at around 3 p.m. I rode the number 1 train from Van Courtlandt Park in the Bronx to South Ferry in lower Manhattan. The ride lasted about an hour. Like stated earlier, this should’ve been just another ride I had to take on the subway, but to my surprise it was a different experience. Without the disturbance of music and my phone, my senses were focused on everything in my surroundings and with that, the things I’ve observed on my ride were fascinating. This essay will focus on the observations I’ve made about the different riders

The train was here, the train was here, this was my second time seeing a train. We climbed in and took our seats, after a few stops we were in Mexicali. We got off, and left the station.

The trip to the hotel room was about an eight-mile journey, which took almost two hours to complete. As I sat on an unfamiliar bus in a strange new city I began to

I stood in the elevator , knees shaking . When my sister Charity blurted out she lost wifi, I lost it. So, without my phone I was scared hot and couldn’t think. When the elevator doors burst open I was the first person the bolt out the elevator. When I looked over the edge, what I saw was beautiful . The Rockefeller skate center glimmered in the moonlight.

“Umm, excuse me sir,” I said to the man at the ticket booth. “But where is train B? I’ve been waiting for it, and I think it was supposed to come a while ago.”

Passengers waiting at the station explained how the train went of the tracks in front of their eyes and they were the first to help injured passengers.

“Home ... I just got off work not long ago.” Passengers left the train and exited the platform through the turnstiles. The train operator allowed just enough time for others to board, then closed the doors and seconds later the train accelerated as it traveled through the tunnel.

The train had halted to a stop. With an uneasy feeling, I asked, “ What’s going on? The train never stops. Never.”

The brakes screech, and commuters get ready to disembark, they started keeping their items away; picking up their bags; and moving towards the doors. As the train comes to a stop, the commuters visibly tense as if bracing themselves, surging forward as the carriage doors open. As those from within try to get out, others from outside try to shove their way

Walking shoulder-to-shoulder, or in my case, shoulder-to-elbow with the civilians on the metro was much more thrilling than I could have imagined. As a child, I opted for indoor activities, preferring the virtual world of entertainment to the green one outside. I did not feel shame at my lack of worldliness; instead I thought I was an introvert. In reality, I was sheltered, not by circumstance or society, but by my own doing. So when I had to take public transportation on my own to commute to a class after school, my panic of the unknown was inevitable. But the actual glamour of the metro absorbed my fears and put me in a world I realized I wanted to be in all along.

We stepped off the tram and started walking toward the stadium. We were here. The workers scanned our tickets and let us in. First went Penelope, then Hope, next Sydney, after her was Annie, and lastly, me. It smelt like candy apples and burnt popcorn. We went in and rode a few of the rides, went to eat, and then bought slushies because Penelope and I really wanted one.

The musty subway trudged past the second to last stop. We've been above ground for a while so my eyes had adjusted to the bright mid afternoon light. The sun warmed the car and the small beams of light highlighted the particles of dust floating in the air. He was sitting next to me, reading on his phone just like He always was. The old muffled intercom interrupted his reading. He looked up at me, smiled, and motioned for the door. I felt a cool sea breeze as soon as the subway doors slid open. I giggled a little. It had been so long since I had been to the ocean and I had never been to Coney Island before. I skipped out onto the outdoor platform giddy with excitement. He just looked at me and laughed. I didn't care, I was somewhere new. The

Having grown up in Davis, I had been shielded from a lot of the harsh realities this world has to offer. However, December 30th, 2007, will always stand out in my mind, because that is the day my perspective on the world changed.

As the sun begins to rise the seagulls begin to sing and I know that it is time to start my day. I get up, grab a cup of hot coffee and watch the world around me from my front porch breathing in the fresh ocean air. I am home. Ever since I can remember I have spent my summers at the shore with everyone I love around me. As I get older the summers keep getting shorter and I just wish I could be young again for one more summer.