The Task Of Composing A Descriptive Essay

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

Beginning a 12-minute journey, leaving my residence Piedmont North A; I headed to Starbucks. From the speed of the wind to the coolness of the air, I could tell that the season of Fall was finally beginning. The falling leaves of the trees were starting to leave a trail, and as I was beginning to approach the establishment, the aroma of coffee beans was lingering in the air.

His palm imprinted through layers of my skirt and lace panties onto my arse cheek.

“Is EN100 a useful class to take?,” this was a question I got asked by a junior at my school. They were looking for classes to take next year; I told them that it was an abundant amount of writing, but it was a great class to take. I went on to explain to them, that taking it in high school would be easier and cheaper than in college. Beginning to explain to them that it helped me grow as a writer and helped improve my English vocabulary, I realized it helped a whole lot. Throughout the first semester of school, we had to write essays over four different topics. These included informative, observation, reflection, and descriptive essays. I told them about my experiences while writing with these certain types of essays. This is what I said:

To see Kendrick leave this morning was much harder than I imagined it would be. To say we’d grown close would be an understatement. We come up with plans to Skype each other on his down time. It needed to be enough for the time being, we had no other options.

“This is for you.” I look at Dialah. She shrugs. The familiar orange juice in a glass is placed in front of me.

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.

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.

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

I used to be normal. I used to have friends and people who cared about me. I used to think I was safe in my mother’s arms. That I could grow up to be the person everyone would admire. But those days are gone. Not a single soul in the world could give a damn about me. Every day I am tormented and abused, and I take it all in because I deserve it. Every day I think of running away, leaving my wretched soul behind. Every day I want to kill myself, but I can never bring myself to. Every day I am an outcast to society, an abomination. Every day that goes by, I am still gay. And I can’t change who I am.

It was another typical day in Washington as gray clouds drifted lazily across the blue sky, hiding the bright rays of the sun from view. A light shower sprinkled over Seattle and only increased as the clouds grew thicker and dense. Sixteen year old Jae Fault walked to school; Greenwood High.

As I opened my eyes I saw nothing but darkness. It surrounded me, comforted me, and urged me to go back to sleep. Then, I heard my Dad’s voice cutting through the pitch black. “Are you still going?” he asked. I rolled over and let out a sleepy moan. He asked again, “Do you still want to go?” I nodded my head and attempted to arouse my brain. “Alright, if you are sure you want to.” he mumbled apprehensively as he walked out of my room. I closed my eyes and began to drift back to sleep. I caught myself drifting and threw off the mountain of covers I was buried under. The cool air of my room hit me and woke me instantly. My feet hit the ice cold floor and goose bumps appeared instantly on my skin. It was 5:00 a.m. on December

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.