Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Snow Day free essay sample

GernhartGernhart 1 English Composition ENG 121 14 May 2013 Narrative Essay #1 I awaken, my feet cold under the sheets . The room is strangely quiet as I slip out of bed and realize the sea of white snow. I hurry to get dressed and start bolting for the back door of our beautiful, city home in Tualatin. Today I will walk through my snow-covered yard as if I am swimming through the ocean. I stopped at the door that faced Nelson Street aligned with beautiful fall colored trees, silently watching the snowfall. The tiny ice crystals drift peacefully down from the sky. As the door slowly creeps open, I carefully step onto the front porch so as not to slip and fall. I now have a full view of Nyberg Woods, a wintry paradise on top of the hill that is covered in the whitest snow. As I walk down the steps and to the sidewalk, the chatter and play of the children, combines with the crunch of the snow under my feet like two instruments in an orchestra. We will write a custom essay sample on Snow Day or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page The white, cottony powder covers every inch of the new car. While I carefully approaching my dad’s brand new Dodge truck, I feel a snowball hit me as if it was throw by an all-star baseball player. I slowly turn around to find my little brother , Dalton laughing so hard he is about to tear up. Dalton was the darndest little, blonde boy with the personality of a clown. He always had me cracking up at the silliest thing that I remembered him joking about. As we continue to enjoy the snow and play in the driveway, I seemed to have a brilliant Gernhart 2 dea that would not be such a great idea in reality. Standing on the driveway wondering what to do, I noticed the jam packed snow and ice on my the truck. I thought to myself, â€Å"Maybe my dad would love it if I helped him in de-icing his car. † Now thinking back, this probably was not the best decision. I presented this plot to my little brother, who I never really bonded with as a child. It was interesting , yet exciting that he wanted to spend the day with me in the snow, instea d of his friends! As I wander around the car, I examine the car and tried to think which tool would do the job. Certainly a credit card was too flimsy and a hockey stick would scratch the windows and paint. I didn’t know it at the time, but thinking a chizzle would do the job, while not breaking the car in any way was the wrong way of going about this. I continue encouraging my brother to engage with through this want to help my dad. Although, he did not think it was the greatest idea. He said worriedly, â€Å"What if we mess up or scratch the color off, or even break a window?! † Not caring about what might happen and the consequences that would come along with that, I convinced him otherwise to partake in this adventurous task. As I raise the chizzle towards the window of the truck, I begin to get excited for what my dad will come outside and see. Starting to get to work, my brother and I heard a slight crack that sounded like the ice beneath us breaking. We started to panic! There would be no easy way out of this one. Looking at Dalton through a hole in the window make me realize that a chisel was not the best utensil. Gernhart 3 We both were running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to make sense of what just happened and how we were going to explain this. â€Å"Maybe, we will just say that someone threw a rock at,† Dalton expressed with a worried look on his face. I was pondering that thought of how my dad might react to this particular instance, â€Å"Will he be mad that we broke his window, or will he be happy that we tried to help? † Feeling more worried now than ever, we decided to go back inside to â€Å"Wait it out†. As I reach the front door, I encourage my brother to act like nothing appened and maybe he won’t notice. Running full speed back up the steps into the house, we shake the snow off of us like we were never even near the truck. Not knowing what would happen, the anticipation was killing us more and more and the minutes on the clock seemed like hours. Peering through the office door, we notice my dad starting to make his way outside to his beautif ul, new baby. As we dashed up the stairs we heard the door shut and the ever so deep tone of my father’s voice, â€Å"Taylor, Dalton come downstairs. † I think we know what we had coming our ways.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.