Descriptive Writing Task
Extracts from this essay...
Nina Bartels Writing task Abandoned, dusty and ancient are my only words to describe the house. As I stood by the very rusty gate covered in withered leaves. There it was by my grandmother's house very old and fragile. Just like her. It went up for sale so quickly; I barely got a chance for a last look around. The rocking chair was immaculate, just how Grandma Betty liked it, as the strong wind blew the dead, dry brown leaves, across the cracked pathway towards the porch, the chair rocked with it. Very calmly, as the wind howled. I just came back for a few things, my belongings. Already the look of the house had taken me aback, it hasn't been that long since grandma Betty died and already I feel like I am standing at the gates of a haunted house. As I stand here, I can just about remember the great Christmases we all spent here.
It's so fresh, as if she had just freshly baked it. As the smell teased my nose, my eye wondered round the room and I looked at the front room which was once, the sitting room which we all shared our great memory, dusty furniture and fire place covered in damp coal. The water I had once before poured on the fire to put out the fire. It seemed as if I had done it yesterday, but it's been weeks, maybe months since I last came here. As I continue through the sitting room, I notice that the rays of sunlight on the stained glass window, try to duck and dart away from the dirt on the window as if they were trying to break-through and enter the house. The colours flicker on the soiled floor, just about making out an image of a disfigured rainbow. It seems quite surreal that Grandma Betty is not here. In this very room.
The chairs surrounded the dining table in the dining room, with the plates and cutlery neatly placed on the table cloth. The crackers torn open, and string all over the table. Just how it was on Christmas day. I could just about remember when grandm said to me 'et up love, or your food i gon'na get cold' she always treated me like her little baby. as i walked around the room i could feel the lively atmosphere, and imagine what it was like. it was about 5.30pm, it was getting dark, i thought it was time to leave as i picked up my box and walked through the dinning room, living room and the sitting room. then there i was standing on the porch, still very dirty. as i walk down the broken steps and look back, at the lonely house as a cold salty tear rounds down my face as i just remebered that grandma is not here to wish me goodbye.
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