It Was A Cold And Breezy Night Essay

“Good,” was the girl’s reply. They walked out of his house and climbed his his run down car. The paint was chipped, and it needed new tires, but he adored it. They had decided to go get frozen yogurt, as a cool treat on a hot summer day. The frozen yogurt shop was packed to the brim with sweaty, smiling faces, in for their favorite flavor. As he sat down next to Paige on the curb with his slightly melted dessert, he thought about all the hard times he had just been

Shattering snowfall of glass surrounded my form with the offending rush of cold air resembled a blizzard; the scent of alcohol now strangled my nose and throat. Blinding lights of neon signs complimented the dark night of the cold fall nights of Telegraph Rd.. However, the chilled air was not able to breach the inside of the warm car that held us; my sister, father, and myself, with the soft music of gospel quietly played. Inevitably, our peaceful serenity was interrupted by the commotion of a semi-truck swerving behind us. Right lane. Left lane. Right lane. Left lane. This behavior became the focus of my father as he was trying to drive us home safely that night. Cautious steering became useless in a single damning moment; our car swerved, my sister wailing, father’s muffled exclamations, and the protruding smell of beer. Thankfully, my body was unscathed; however, the way I envisioned the world changed drastically.

When I heard Jessica crying and saw the dog looking into my face I told him “Georgie go see why Jessica is crying”. Next thing I knew he went off running and she was quiet so I went to check on her and there they were in the bed sleeping, he comfort her. Even though a snow storm was coming, she decided to go on her winter camping trip anyway. It was like something was calling her out there. But in the event of her wilderness trip she was starting to feel better. There was a positivity her in her life that was growing and the depression had started to fade by the activities she is doing. Her experience of sleeping in below freezing caves, digging out of a snow barricades with the help of Jackson and Hailey. She was doing things her and her dogs would never have dreamed of. She admits that her very cold and freezing adventure has helped her appreciate the beauty of life and her winter wilderness experience. She was starting to feel like she belong and was appreciating the value of her life and her surroundings. “A Blizzard under blue sky” gave her a new lease on life and a spark of rejuvenation.

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “John,” my father hollered up the stairs, “It’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds distressed.” As I came down the stairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.

“Mama, cover doors and windows. Everyone go to the bedroom, and put your masks on,” I directed, calmly. When I got to the bedroom, everyone was huddled around each other, with a white cloth on their face. Suddenly, the room became dark. You could hear the heavy breathing of everyone in the room, yet you couldn’t see anyone. The storm felt like it lasted for days, but only really lasted a few minutes. When I got back to the dining room table, I saw a letter on the table from the bank.

Tires squealed on black ice and the engine backfired as she swerved around a narrow edge of the cliff. Jennifer Lesniak is traveling from Wisconsin to Oregon in a six ton truck through treacherous mountains and endless plains. It was three days of almost non-stop driving, only being able to sleep when she gave the wheel to her husband. Just when she was about to give up she thought the extreme weather in Wisconsin and about why she was moving to Oregon in the first place. She carried on willed by the warmer weather that awaited her on the west coast. The snow fell like ash from a volcano, building up on the road to the point where they had to get out of their truck and shovel the road clear. “Clearing the roads were extremely difficult” She said. “We were so close to the edge of this mountain standing on slippery ice trying to shovel the snow out of the road with little to no safety guard between us and the drop.”

Night is an autobiographical novella written by Elie Wiesel a young jewish boy who tells of his experiences during the Holocaust. Elie is from the small town of Sighet, Transylvania. This book begins in late 1941 and chronicles Elie's life through the end of the war in 1945.He had two older sisters, Hilda and Beatrice Wiesel and a younger sister, Tzipora Wiesel. Elie spoke many languages including Hungarian, Romanian, German and he grew up

“Maria! Maria where are you?” I look around the vast yard searching for my sister. I give up looking, she’ll eventually come in when she notices I’ve stopped looking for her. I pass my mother on our porch staring into the horizon waiting for something that’ll never happen. “A blizzard” the radio had crackled out last night. The reporter said that anyone in Oklahoma to leave if they still can. My father and I don’t believe that bogus, but it has Ma a bit rattled. I ran up the stairs of our rickety old house up to the attic. I heard the slamming of the door. It must be Maria, ‘cus it’s still light outside so Pa shouldn’t be home yet. I peek down stairs and Maria and ma are heading into the kitchen to cook supper. I know I should go and help but

The smell of the leather upholstery came back and the cold from the steering wheel bit at Michaels' hands. He heard the leather creak as he turned to face his pregnant wife, and he noticed the stiffness of the padded seat caused by the cold. Michael blinked his eyes as he stared at Mary while reaching for the key to start the car. He was so intently focused on the moment, yet at the same time he wondered what the storm had been like so many years ago.

It was a cold winter day, when the grass was buried under a blanket of snow, all the trees were decorated with natural crystal ornaments and the lakes were hidden under a sheet of ice. Mom had gone over to Dad’s apartment to work on their research paper on Germany’s role during the Holocaust. It was getting late and the roads were blocked due to the blizzard that happened the day before. Mom called Nana telling her that she would stay at Dad’s until the roads opened.

He stomped his way out of the slushy snow as he headed home for the widow’s house. The temperature had dropped throughout the day, it was reported on the daily newspaper that the bad weather was only just the beginning of the winter yet-to-come. He had just came from school and was drained. He didn’t like being sivilized but, school had grown on him. He rubbed his hands together in an effort to keep warm as he walked the familiar street. When he spotted his gang leader, Tom with the others.

The cold winter breeze hit her skin as she stepped out of the warm truck, ordinarily, she immediately wrapped her arms around the black coat attempting to keep her warm, as she was freezing from the sudden temperature change from the truck into the chilly air. Looking back to the sled being drawn out of the back of the truck, then she turned around and her eyes landed on the Rocke’s house, their close family friends. Gazing briefly at her parents one last time, ran to the door of the house, ready to get out of the cold momentarily.

It was a cold December night in the small town of Littlebrook. The wind was bitter and cold and the ground was paved in snow. Tom was in his study, busy looking over the blueprints for the new auto parts factory that was being constructed in his town. He worked as an electrical engineer for the local construction company and was responsible of making sure all the wiring was in place, among other things. He was exhausted from working all night and decided to take a break, so he headed down to the living room to watch some TV with his wife, Emily.

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

It was three o’clock in the morning. Outside the window, the sky was still dark. There were barely any stars in the sky, and no cloud cluttered. The sky was painfully dark and motionless. Except for the faint light from the moon, everything seems lifeless. In a dark room, there was a girl sitting up on the bed, leaning on the wall beside her. She was looking out the window. Through the window, the girl can see the sky and the top of some buildings, however, nothing special or attractive. But, the girl has been staring at it for almost an hour now, silently and peacefully.