I've got an essay and YOU can help

[Smiley73]

Hey guys, take a read through this descriptive essay I wrote if you want, feedback would be great

 

Hard Times

 

Cracked dirty walls and boxes surrounded me. That was all that was left after my time spent here. No impression left by my fleeting visit, just an empty room, like how I arrived here. I guess there’s some sort of circular message to be taken from that but I was too tired to care anymore.

 

I sat on a box marked “Clothes” as memories danced through my mind. Cars hooted in the street outside, people bustling to the rest of their lives while I sat here. Doing what? Doing what? Doing what? The litany ran through my mind, seeking an answer…

 

Wasting my time on bad memories, that’s what. Losing sleep every night because I can hear the rats gnawing away in the walls, counting the drips of water falling from the roof when it rained, the symphony of police sirens playing through the night, the call of a pack of stray dogs roaming the night fighting for scraps.

 

The door to the apartment was battered and bruised, many layers of cracked paint showing through, like most in the building. The number had long since been ripped off, though you could still read the number by the outline of grime left behind.

 

The door opened up to a depressing main room. Stark would be the nicest way to describe it. A half-full gas stove in the one corner. In next to the stove was a single table and chair – I lived alone. There was a dark stain on the floor the origin of which I never could guess, the cracked paint on the walls betrayed the concrete underneath. The window facing out to the world was cracked and let in a bitingly cold wind at night that carried the smell of acrid smoke. In the corner furthest away from the door was a single bed where I lay at night awake, too scared to sleep.

 

The bathroom door was near my bed, close enough to bolt to if I really had to. Inside there was not one uncracked floor tile. The shower in the corner never had hot water, when it had running water at all. The sink was chipped and only a thin sliver remained of what must have once been a mirror. The smell emanating from the toilet made me gag whenever I came in.

 

My life was packed up in boxes again. Everything that I am is in this room right now. Maybe that’s why I don’t want to leave. Here I know, here is safe. Even if the future is bright, the light can scare the men in the shadows of mediocrity…

 

 

Awesome!

[Songstress]

Fantastic job, Smiley! The only thing I can see is perhaps a bit of overuse of the word "cracked"... you've got that in there 4 times (once as "uncracked"), as opposed to one "chipped".

 

Otherwise, brilliant IMO

[Niniel]

Great!

[Smiley73]

Fantastic job, Smiley! The only thing I can see is perhaps a bit of overuse of the word "cracked"... you've got that in there 4 times (once as "uncracked"), as opposed to one "chipped".

 

Otherwise, brilliant IMO

great thanks for that, I think I should be bring out a thesaurus

[Smiley73]

Great!

 

Thank you!

[Smiley73]

Here's my improved version:

 

Hard Times

 

Cracked, dirty walls and boxes surrounded me. That was all that was left after my time spent here. No impression left by my fleeting visit, just an empty room, like it was when I arrived. I suppose there’s some sort of circular message to be taken from that, but I was too tired to care about finding it. I sat on a box marked “Clothes” as memories danced through my mind. Cars hooted in the streets outside, people bustled to the rest of their lives while I sat here. Doing what? Doing what? Doing what? The litany ran through my mind, seeking answers…

 

Wasting my time on bad memories, that’s what. Losing sleep every night because I can hear the rats gnawing away in the walls, counting the drips of water falling from the ceiling when it rains, the symphony of police sirens playing through every night, the calls of a pack of strays roaming the night fighting, for scraps.

 

The door to the apartment was battered and bruised, many layers of flaked-off paint showing through, like most in the building. The number had long since been ripped off, though you could guess it by the outline of grime left behind.

The door opened to a depressing main room. Stark would be the nicest way to describe it. A half-full gas stove in the corner closest to the door. Next to the stove was a single table and chair. There was a dark stain on the floor, whose origin I could never guess, the cracked paint on the walls betraying the concrete underneath. The window facing out to the world was shattered and let in a bitingly cold wind at night that carried the taste of acrid smoke. In the corner furthest away from the door was a single bed where I lay at night, awake.

 

The bathroom door was adjacent to the bed, close enough to bolt to if I really had to, which I occasionally did. Inside, half the floor tiles were cracked, the other half missing. The shower in the corner never had hot water, when it had running water at all. The sink was chipped and only a thin sliver remained of what must have once been a mirror. The smell emanating from the toilet made me gag whenever I came in.

 

I could still smell the lavatory as I sat near the door. My life was packed up in boxes again. Everything that I am is in this room right now. Maybe that’s why I don’t want to leave. Here, I know. Here is safe. Even if the future is bright, the light can scare the men in the shadows.

 

[Crimson_Ayla]

Tis vair nice

[Crimson_Ayla]

here's a llama

 

[Crimson_Ayla]

there's a llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

and another little llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

fuzzy llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

funny llama

 

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

duck

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama llama

 

[Crimson_Ayla]

cheesecake

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

tablet

[Crimson_Ayla]

brick

[Crimson_Ayla]

potato

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama llama

 

[Crimson_Ayla]

mushroom

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama

[Crimson_Ayla]

llama llama