Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

“I can’t believe they don’t have any plum cake,” Jack Dandy said angrily, looking at the plum cake decorations hanging above his head. “I can 't believe they don 't have any either! You should talk to the store owner, Venny, I bet he has some hidden somewhere for himself!” Handy Pandy said with his hands behind his back. Venny tries to see Handy’s hands, but his view is obstructed by a shelf. “Okay, good idea. Hey, Venny! You don 't have any plum cakes!” Jack said forcefully as he hip-hops over. “Woah there, calm down it is just a plum cake, but there should be some right over there by those shelves,” Venny says. “I was just over there, what do you think you can lie to me right to my face?” Jack said, outraged. “Excuse me, sir, but you

"I used to this all the time with grandma..." Mom grinned, closing her eyes as I grin back, reflecting her appearance.

He had you pressed up against his hotel door, hand shoved inside your panties and nibbling at the thin skin on your neck, feeling your heart pulse and speed up along with the movements of his hand. Both of you were drunk, however that didn’t stop you both from making out at the bar and somehow walking the streets to his hotel and now you’re here? Your mind blurred as he bit down roughly and leaned your head back on the door. His free hand snuck up your shirt, cupping your breasts.

Sunday morning arrived, two weeks since their grand melee, and Mauricio thought it was appropriate to go home and see how Consuelo was doing again. Hoping he had given her enough time to cool down, there he found her watching Sunday morning news while clipping coupons. He greeted her with a simple, “Hi, Mom! How are you doing?” And, planted a big kiss on her cheek. Consuelo’s silence was his cue that she was still upset with him. Sensing she was still disconcerted he walked right in to his room and picked out clothes and packed a few other personal belongings. He returned to the living room with two large travel bags in hand.

The cold crisp winter air bit at me as I trekked across the empty field. Exhaling a breath, I inched further into my coat and stuffed my hands into my pockets in an attempt to keep warm. Spotting a bench that was brown and slightly rustic, I made my way over. Plopping myself down, I instantly fell back into the hard wooden seat with a sigh. The field was calming, peaceful and quiet – just how I liked it. Shrugging my backpack off, I hastily pulled out a worn out version of Persuasion – an old favourite of mine.

It was a nice, toasty spring day. The sun was shining and there was a cool breeze blowing through my hair. I was on my way back from Donnie Ronald’s annual Guns and BBQ, where all the local guys come and shoot guns in Donnie’s basement gun range. Walking home I started to get a little hungry, I decided to take a shortcut knowing there would be some deer at the river. I walked through the swampy area of the Big Cypress Swamps just north of the Everglades. I had my military boots on and was prepared to go through the wet muddy area, with my gun and my knife, I was prepared for alligators and snakes. As I walked along the path, there was an eerie abundance of beavers.Maybe I was just very hungry, but they all looked delicious, so I shot one and put it in a bag to take home for mama to cook for me. I guess they got mad at me for that, because they sure did retaliate. About an hour later, once I was on the way home, I was on the path and I heard a big crack. It felt a giant icepick hit me in the back and I fell in pain. A tree about four feet in diameter fell on my chest. Struggling to breathe, I tried to push it off my chest but it wouldn 't budge. As I attempted to push this massive tree off of myself, I heard what sounded like chuckling.As I turned my head to turned to the right, I saw a group of beavers, sitting and laughing. One of the beavers marched over and grabbed the bag with my dead beaver dinner.The

There are times when people come across an object that holds a sentimental value and want to keep it close to their heart or in other instances, store it somewhere safe. Though my possession isn 't exactly an object you can hold or put away for safekeeping, but rather a place that allows family and friends to gather and dwell upon its most glorious days. A place everyone is perpetually invited and accepted for who they are. This home, I gratefully inherited from my grandparents, has become a shelter for those those in need, serves as a financial asset, and offers fond memories.

* I decided to rewrite this story, but it is mostly me fixing it up here and there. I went back to read it all over again and it really needs some work. I know I am still not the best writer but I will the best I can.

There’s something I need to say and what follows may not be something that you’d expect, it won’t be heartening or uplifting. If you remember today, I told you about going somewhere I wanted to go to… I’m not sure if you believed and accepted what I now confess as untrue; it is partly. I needed to pull away emotionally… from you.

The smell of freshly cut grass enveloped my nose as I enduringly waited for Nicholas outside of the apartment building, at the same time struggling to hamper down the brim of my attire.

My grandpa parked the car outside his home after a 12-hour drive from the Chennai International Airport to pick me up from my journey halfway across the world. The front house door swung open to reveal my grandmother who was waiting for us. We warmly greeted each other, and I took my suitcase inside. My grandparents went to the second floor of their house to unlock a room for my stay. As I waited in the living room, my eyes caught a flicker of movement inside the kitchen. I cautiously stood up and slowly snuck up the hallway. I imagined an infinite number of possibilities of who might be in the house. Who could it be? A thief? I peeked around the corner of the kitchen to find the refrigerator door open with a long furry tail flailing outside of it. As I craned my neck to look further, I realized I was staring at a monkey helping himself to food from the refrigerator! I then noticed a couple of more monkeys foraging through my grandmother’s spice cabinets. I tried to figure out what to do, when all of a sudden, my grandpa, poised with a long wooden stick, ran past me, fiercely yelling, “AHHHHHHHHHH!” to scare away the monkeys. The monkeys, now caught red-handed, froze and stared at my grandpa for a millisecond, then bound for an open window in the kitchen with stuffed cheeks and hands filled with bouquets of food. I stood and wondered if this was what the rest of my trip would be like. Little did I know of what was to come. All I knew for sure was that my

In the morning, the sky would turn light blue, in the afternoon a blue mixed with white, then gradually mixed with red, then dark blue at night, and finally pitch black. I saw this change of colours by gazing head high to the sky at different places.

I lock the door behind me and hastily run to the little window. I glance around though not sure why. They atempt to unlock the latch.

It was 2:30 in The morning. And mum always used to say nothing good ever happens after two in the morning. I should have listened. Anyway, I stood on the corner of Vernon and 25th street, on a rainy night in London. When standing there, I suddenly became suspicious of my surroundings. A man figure dressed in black passed by without a word. He dropped a pale, beige journal. When I realized it had fallen, I gathered up the broken, fallen pages upon the ground. As I looked up to see where the mysterious man had gone, I found myself standing alone as I did before.

I awoke from the same Nightmare that I had woken up from for the past twenty years.