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.

When my parents decided I had become old enough to safely wield a pole with a small but hurtful hooked object on a string, I began fishing. At first I only wanted to fish because I was not allowed to, but after I tried it for the first time I became fascinated with the mechanics. With our small, skinny, breakable-looking poles, we could pull mysterious, flopping beasts out of the water that would otherwise swim beneath the surface, undetectable. During the fall and winter months, my father, my sister, and I would frequently take our fishing poles down to the creek behind our house in hope of catching salmon and any other wondrous kinds of fish that frequented the cool waters.

As you kneel down on the hard wood floor in cabin 12, the smell of 4-day-old, moldy tube socks that have been soaked in lake water sneak into your nose. They were balled up under one of the beds, and left to ferment in the muggy summer heat. As a cabin keeper at Merritt Reservoir, you will have many bizarre encounters in the short three-month summer break that you spend there. You need a variety of supplies to clean different types of cabins, and they can be classified as the busy work cabins, party cabins, mystery cabins, and the outhouses. The supplies range from typical cleaning utensils such as rags and window cleaner, extra toilet paper and towels, Febreze, and rubber gloves for sticky situations. However, also be sure to grab mousetraps, a bible, and a long wooden rod with a hook on the end. This sounds unusual, but it will make sense soon.

I did my best to straighten up a bit for my impromptu guest; quickly discarding a few empty low balls that had marked their territory on the old coffee table with rings of dried condensation. The single bed and bath apartment wasn 't particularly large but it was open with only a short wall separating the living area from the kitchen. The aforementioned bedroom and bathroom being the only rooms that were completely enclosed. The living area doubled as my office and with a bit creative decorating, didn 't feel as cluttered as it truly was. A large wooden desk found residence at the back of the room, my hand-me-down office chair and two gently used wooden chairs sat on opposite sides of the wooden center piece. A dark brown leather sectional took the for front and served as make shift seating for waiting clients, not that there were ever any waiting.

Later that night, I was behind the wheel of my G-Wagon with Melissa in the passenger seat. She didn’t feel like driving since she was on the road all day and I understood so I didn’t mind when she asked me to. I had been tight-lipped. She kept eyeballing me as if she detected that something was bothering me but I just kept singing to my India Arie as if I was carefree.

It is on days like this when we stop to think about our life. Small drops of rain begin to dapple the cobblestone pavement as people whip out their umbrellas for cover. I continue sauntering down the busy street, relishing the feeling of a light shower. Moving with the mass of pedestrians, I stop at a crosswalk where I wait for the stoplight to turn green. A flower shop employee across the street scurries to bring in the numerous bouquets and close the doors as rain starts rolling down the display window, leaving some forgotten decorative balloons to bounce around under the rain.

Once I had closed the door after them we stood in silence, staring at the worn blue of the floor beneath our feet. There was nothing we could do or say to make this less uncomfortable. There was something unfathomable sneaking between all three of us and we knew it without speaking. If any of us were taken away then that meant we were hiding something from even our own family, and in our society that wasn’t well tolerated. Then again, if you came out as an oddity that could make a person’s blood boil just by looking at them then you had a tendency to fear those around you. I didn’t want anyone to be afraid of me, but I also couldn’t keep it from creeping into their psyche once the truth was laid bare for everyone to see. It would break my

After calling and asking if her grandfather would mind some company, Melanie showered and changed her clothes. She wanted to look nice and presentable and not dust covered from being in the apartment that had been locked up for over a couple of weeks. Being dropped off at the cottage in Homewood, she climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.

It was Halloween and, being the super mature teenager that I was, I went trick-or-treating. Going house to house and getting practically thrown at with candy just seemed entirely worth it. Considering I was 5,3, I wasn 't surprised that I could pull off being a 12-year-old for one night without calling attention to myself.

Passengers dozed peacefully in the cramped, cold, and dark cabin, eye masks on. A sudden jolt, riveting the plane, spurred only a few grumbling snorts from the unconscious travelers. The engines droned while chatty flight attendants gossiped behind a curtain.

* 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.

You can do that?! Haha, no not right now. You done so much already, let me do something for you for a change. I got Seti to make his people make a plaque for you. I don’t know how well it will work though since lately all of Seti’s plans has

As I sat in my blue beanbag chair in the corner of the room one Sunday afternoon, with the neon green window drapes next to me blowing and waving in the breeze, and a cup of tea in my hands, I began to reminisce. Staring at the adjacent corner of the room, at the vertex where the ceiling and two walls meet, I started to daydream.

[Note: Instead of [Y/N] or third point of view, it is now first point of view to receive the best experience in reading!]