Descriptive Writing Essays

I loath cold icy days and motion sickness, unfortunately my trip to San Francisco consisted of horrible weather with the addition of rough waters and questionably sound ships. As much as I loath bad weather I love traveling and exploring new cities, San Francisco was worth braving 55°F weather and 15 mph wind in July. I’ve never been phobic of confined spaces or water but there is something to be said about an old boat whining into port that set off alarms in my brain. White paint cracking and…

This was my first time being in a limousine. A long stretched matted black car, with opaque windows from the outside. It looked small at first glanced, but the inside it was humongous. I felt presidential I felt luxury. Like I meant special in someone’s life. It was Early on a Sunday morning riding to Jocqui funeral. Mc Donald’s had paid for it because he was working there during the time before his departure of my heart. This was my first time going to a funeral. I had a lot of mix emotion all…

The Private Detective On the top of high mountain of a town, a detached house surrounded by wide green field which is vintage, its color is very attractive which flash to people eyes make everyone stop for it beauty, it always stand still as a new building although it had been build over 100 years and no one residence there for a very long time and no one ready to step in though specific area as there is a story behind it. People said whoever step in though the area, they will disappear in 3…

Horrible Hometown Highway Music was blaring, windows were rolled down. The cool seven am morning breeze hit my face and tousled my hair. The words of the song I was listening to flowed through my body and moved me. I was screaming every word because that was “my favorite song.” The sound of the gravel crunching underneath the tires as the road drug on and on for what felt like hours. Darkness surrounds my sight, my body goes limp. My life flashes before my eyes as I see bright lights appear…

Trembling, my hand grips the old, unsteady doorknob and as I turn it, my heart skips a beat. The wobbly door creaks when it opens, and darkness fills my eyes. The smell of must enters my nostrils as a light draft comes up the uneven stairs. The light switch struggles to hold on to the ceiling by one frayed cord. My unsteady hand reaches for the switch, and as I attempt to stay on the laminate floor, one lone light ignites, it is covered by an overload of cobwebs and built up dust. As I look down…

As I walk along lazily, I dig my feet into the sun-warmed golden sands, still damp from the retreating tide, as to fend off the blistering rays from the furnace of the day. The pulsing heart of the sea allows my ears to adjust and calibrate to the rhythmic percussion of the waves, which were harmonious with the calls of the gulls. As they encircle me, it becomes clear that they are interested in the violet-bed of mussels that are burrowed within the grey stones above the tide line. The salt…

The church gym has never been this packed before, of that I'm sure, but this is New Year's Eve. The room is dark, lit only by the big colorful lights set up on either side of the DJ's table. The colors turn off and the strobe light turns on, turning the swarming mass of dancing teenagers into something out of an old movie. One of the ones where there's a flicker of darkness between each frame, giving things a stop motion kind of feel. Up close like this the light is painful and makes my head…

Alex Mwamsindo Sheyene Heller English Composition 1 01/27/16 “The beauty of Jumbo campground at Mesa, Colorado” The sun shone fair brilliant white light through the thin mist. The mist wrapped around the camp site in the glassy air. A cozy thin breeze it was; like a fine cloying wine searching the palate and bringing a bloom to the cheek. The air was cool and brisk, like a refreshing drink of cold lemonade after hours under the scorching sun. Red, yellow and orange leaves fluttered on the soft…

Conquering Hell I remember everything that day. The gas, the smell of the dead bodies, and the constant rain. But the thing I remember the most was the regret and rush of my first kill. I was in the trenches that day, on the front line. I enlisted for my great country of England and I was proud and full of hope, but in the trenches all hope was gone. I saw soldiers in agony crying and screaming. The sound of the constant artillery still bangs in my head, and I can smell the pungent mud. My…

The waves of the lake bend over like a weak sapling in the middle of a terrible storm. The sun was covered by clouds which dulled its brightness in a unique way. The pain busted in my fingers as I tightly clenched the rough rope. I pushed through knowing the hit of the water would be far more painful. The taste of sweat, dripping, slower than the molasses that was poured over my biscuit, that morning. The sweat blurred the ability to taste anything else with its pungent saltiness. The scent from…