Descriptive Writing - Original Writing

Bahauddin grabbed for a place to rest his hand while he lifted his feet, climbing through the shaft, out of the caverns. Every crack of stone was filled with overgrown moss, As he rose, he could see the sky was just before nightfall. The only sound around was the howl of the wind, and the keys clanging against each other like a windchime during a breezy spring afternoon. Ascending up the shaft, he was cautiously concentrating for each and every placement of his hands and feet, careful not to slip. Bahauddin’s hand grasped the top of the shaft. The sky was painted with brush strokes of blood orange, reflecting a glare off the keys. Outside, it had looked like a warzone. No buildings fully structured, not a person in sight, just crumbs

My hands knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I tried to calm my breathing a little bit because I swear I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Because that’s what it looks like,” I bawled, irritated when I sensed the laughter my son sucked in. “You three are all in cahoots; anyone can tell that. You knuckleheads just don’t want to admit it, that I’m right.” I jested with a mother’s omniscience right to do so, then I softened, with a mother’s omniscience will to do so, too.

Digging her toes in the warm sand IlSeok soaked in the hues of reds and yellows as the sun sunk into the ocean. A humid breeze ruffed her long dark hair making her feel like she could fly with the birds diving over the water. She was an Island Princess dressed in a silk ball gown complete with elbow length white gloves and a tiara. Holding the light fabric out against the wind aware this was one of their play dresses all grown up.

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.

Often when I think of canyons I think of time being etched into a stone creating deep, intricate gorges. The first time I encountered a picture taken from the inside a canyon, it made me think back to the imagery I would use to describe my own life. A ravine with so many edges and turns that in pieces do not make sense but, when put together create this sort of channel running through the rock. I noticed that without the sun 's rays shining down, the canyon becomes dark, hollow, and full of chaos waiting to happen. However, when the light shines in the ravine there is a rainbow effect running up the rock and all the little etchings adding more glory to the overall masterpiece.

Obediently, Blondie increased his speed and – I noticed – his pleasure. His mouth was opening soundlessly now, another sign of his enjoyment I knew so well. He was breathing heavily too. Felatina kept him rowing and rowing, to the point where I thought he was going to spray his love juice. However, the potion was working well and although he showed all the physical signs of being close to orgasm, the actual event was not happening. I smiled at Marianna as we giggled about what kind of sensation that must be for a man.

Have you ever felt oddly out of place somewhere that should be more, familiar? I’ve never felt more alien then on my third trip to China visiting the Hunan province in a little town called Chengdu. This little town was my origins. Like much of China it had become more urbanized and like much of China it was unrecognizable to me. Seventeen years and six months ago I was adopted by Colleen Colbert, and Joel Carreiro from an orphanage in a little town called Chengdu.

A warm ray of light, shining past sheer white curtains, hit the face of a heavy-eyed Colonial man. Now awake, he swiftly exchanged his over-worn Bayan for his usual trousers and top coat before heading out to town. Grabbing a small loaf of bread, he walked past the wooden entrance to his home and started his path to work. As he scuffled his feet along the dirt road, a thought started creeping from the back of his mind. As the memory came to be clear, a sensation of panic consumed his body which led to his stomach dropping and a cold sweat rushing through his very core. Face flushed and clammy palms, he recalled his Colonial wife aggressively demanding meat for the table this week. “As the wife of a Banqueter, I expect to have a proper

I remember that day when I moved into that town. It was a fresh and clear day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining all over. I had unpacked and had decided to explore around the place. I went through the shops and the park, and there nothing interested me. I don’t know why but, nothing was interesting. I had walked around and I was pretty sure that I had seen something shimmering in the sunlight, but when I looked closer, it was gone. Now, I will tell you how I became this: a ghost.

I remember that day when I loved into that town. It was a fresh and clear day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining all over. I had unpacked and had decided to explore around the place. I went through the shops and the park, and there nothing interested me. I don’t know why but, nothing was interesting. I had walked around and I was pretty sure that I had seen something shimmering in the sunlight, but when I looked closer, it was gone. Now, I will tell you how I became this: a ghost.

"Dreamy" I thought. Standing on the corner is a young guy with a smile. I see him here almost every day, so I linger for a while. He tells me his name, and I tell him mine. ' 'I 'm Ester, what 's your name? I enquired. ' 'My names David ' '.,He replied. We end up talking for a while and I asked him if he had ever left this city. He tells me of all these stories of the places where he 's been, the distant lakes and mountains, and in valleys oh so green. I can see it in his eyes, he really has been there, travelled in those distant lands, seen sights beyond compare. I am so honoured just to get to know him, and hear him tell his tales. He makes me laugh and smile, stuff I have never been able to do. I want to go and see the world through

Your name is Pacifica Northwest and you are an eight year old, vivacious, wealthy blonde living in the peaceful town that was Gravity Falls, Oregon. It was small, and your mansion was probably one of the biggest buildings in town, owned by none other than Patricia and Richard Northwest.

After a few words with Quincy, he hung up the phone and the two of us walked back to the kitchen table. Dale had yet to let go of my hand and I was far from pulling it away. I let my parents do all the talking, or cross examining if you prefer. All that was missing was the hot light point in Dale’s face as they grilled him. I was never so happy when a knock came to the door.

The moment I first saw my newly born nephew was magical. I walked into the hospital room and there he was, in the arms of his aunt. He was perfect, a little miracle, an angel. My heart squeezed when I first saw him and I immediately fell in love. Then, I held him. He was so alert and perfect; I couldn’t stop looking at him. His tiny, perfect hands and feet and his adorable facial expressions: he was so beautiful! And I cried. The feeling I experienced was so powerful that it is hard for me to imagine that it will be even stronger when I have my own children. I couldn’t believe he was my little nephew and he was finally here! I had been anxiously awaiting his birth from the day I found out I was going to become an auntie. Even after seeing him and holding him, it took a while for the idea to sink in that he was real and that I was finally an aunt! I didn’t want to ever put him down; I could’ve held him and watched him forever as he slept so peacefully and beautifully, my little angel.