Reads: 251  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a descriptive paragraph that I wrote for a project in my writer's craft class this year.

Submitted: October 28, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 28, 2011



My parents and I energetically wave goodbye to our companions as we drive away, winding down the asphalt road. As we embark on our journey, I settle myself into my seat and take a look around. I first look up at the sky, and am reminded of a deep and endless pool of water that is covered with tiny candles lighting the surface; shyly flickering about. The lights that illuminate the bustling city now wink at me, interrupted by the tall trees shading the busy road. I look down to send a text message, and my stomach cringes. Hugging my abdomen, I pray for the nausea to cease as I blindly roll down my window. A blast of air pushes me back and turns my eyes into watery slits as the sharp wind slaps at my cheeks and tosses my hair around like angry waves in the ocean. The deafening wail silences the growling cars as they approach. I take in a deep breath, and the air stings the inside of my nose like splinters of glass, but I can feel the bubbling sickness retreat. A shiver creeps up my spine, so I close the window and allow a foggy film to grow on the surface; we're almost there. While stopped at a streetlight, I can see how the moon emits a ghostly hue that lingers on the tops of the other cars. As we glide over a rugged road, I can clearly remember the previous engagement that I so easily left behind. I can remember the artificial smoothness of the playing cards and and the sound of someone close by saying “make it hearts” or “pick it up”. I can remember the sound of chatter, like a flock of birds sitting in a willow tree. The warm touch of my grandmother, and my grandfather's jesting smile. After parking, I slam the door behind me and head up to bed, needing some much needed rest after a long night of food, laughter, and warmth.

© Copyright 2018 Joy Evans. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:




More Young Adult Short Stories