Descriptive Essay - Original Writing
The world slowly fizzles into existence around me as I slowly rise to my feet.
It’s an absurdly small room, probably about 12 feet square. A single dim light bulb on the ceiling fails to fully illuminate the room.
My head is killing me. There’s blood in my hair. I want to fall back to the floor.
The walls and floor are smoother than concrete, but just as stern and unwelcoming. The air is musty and a thin layer of dust covers everything. The room is only furnished with a twin-sized bed and a small bookshelf.
The crisp autumn air had filled me with an uncommon sense of hope as I traversed my daily route downtown. The old brick walls of the local businesses were more welcoming than usual, and I had taken to a bit of window-shopping rather than my usual habit of keeping my head down and rushing to my destination. Collections of rustic dolls and antique shops could hold my attention.
I paid more attention to the laughing families and couples exploring Main Street. Maybe it was a bit sad for a twenty something to be wandering this street alone, but I had orange leaves and some half-memorized Van Morrison song playing in my head, so I felt a smile creeping onto my face nonetheless.
“In a good mood today, eh Joe?” started the girl behind the counter
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” my name is Joey, not Joe, but she knew how easily she could pick my nerves.
“Do I even have to ask anymore?”
“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf and I’ll…