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Describe the room you're in.

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Describe The Room You're In. Hannah Wright. Still, a thick veil of cigarette smoke filtered my view of the dark, dank, desolate sitting room, and made the black walls appear grey. The early hours of the evening had consisted of me repeatedly lighting and leaving cigarettes to burn out between my fingers, not one of the twenty met my lips, as intended. The looming smoke crept slowly out of a miniscule hole in the top left hand corner of the window fame, to my right. I lazily calculated, judging by the time of the humungous clock on the wall opposite me, that I'd been slumped on this icy black settee for over 9 hours now. Time moved slower than I'd ever known it, it was gradually approaching 2:24am. ...read more.


His struggling eyes pleaded for a helping hand. I swung my right arm over his broad back and under his barrel-like rib cage, gripping tightly and pulling toward myself, he appreciatively licked my arm, and then settled next to me. After a few short moments, he sunk down into the settee and lolled his head onto my leg, where he stared back morosely at me, breathing in deeply and almost sighing as he forced breaths out. His brow furrowed into the form of self-pity and grief, now and then throwing the odd whimper at me. He'd always been good at mirroring my feelings. The wind was audibly picking up speed and strength, it angrily punched the windowpane several times, before giving in and sending a fleet of fat, hefty, hard-hitting rain drops to pummel the windowpane some more. ...read more.


The hellish gale swirled tauntingly around me, pulling my cardigan and twirling my hair around my throat. The dog lunged onto my lap, and began to warn off the frosty blasts with a series of blood curdling, deep and defensive barks and snarls. Silence fell. I stood. Wrapping my cardigan around me tightly, and following my bodyguard of a dog, I peered out of the double doors and down the bleak corridor. The front door was closed. I returned to resume sitting on the sunken leather settee with my dog. As I sat, my left hand attempted to correct my windswept hair, while the right cradled my proud pet. I felt the beginnings of a snarl rekindling from the pit of his stomach; it rose up into his throat and gushed out between gritted teeth at the rain that spat spitefully at the window. ...read more.

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Here's what a teacher thought of this essay

5 star(s)

An excellent response to a challenging title. The piece is well structured and the description used is wide ranging and highly effective. The overall result is a very good piece of imaginative writing.

5 Stars

Marked by teacher Laura Gater 04/10/2013

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