Creative Writing Coursework

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      Minute after minute the phone had rang in both rooms as people young and old, had paid their mourning respects. The room had been in utter silence, it had been as if the phone had been demanding someone pick it up. It had become very irritating for most of us. I had seen the anger rising up in my uncle, as he has an extremely short temper. He had been trying to clear the furniture out of the front and living room.

     For everyone in my family, it had been an occasion they had never experienced before, in their lives. Every person in my family, who was in our house at that time, had swollen red eyes from crying, and dark circles from being awake most of that night. When I had heard about what had happened, a big lump had slowly started to form in my throat. A lump I could not swallow, a lump that would not let me talk and sent me into a deep remembrance of my past memories that I had shared with my granddad. As everyone in the room had been silent, the only thing that had brought me back to reality had been the shrieks of the telephone.

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     I had been helping my uncle in the dining room, as we emptied out the front and living room furniture. The whole dining room had looked gloomy, as usually the light would have been beaming in through the glass doors, as bright as a hot summer’s day. We had cleared all the furniture, except for the big, white, u-shaped sofas in both rooms that we could not get through the doors, which as a result of, my uncle had decided to leave it there.

     When we had finished, my uncle had gone and sat in the ...

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