Descriptive Essay - Original Writing
...I make a dash past My Mum’s prize scarlet red and sky-blue roses and enter our house via the kitchen door that My Mum always leaves wide open when I am outside. I rush to a stop in front of the yellow plastic-surfaced kitchen table where My Mum is sat facing me with both hands wrapped tightly round her ancient commemorative Royal Jubilee mug looking glum. My lunch of a ‘Best of Both Worlds” wholemeal/ white bread jam sandwich is on a light green ten centimetre diameter plate in front of her. I force myself to resist the urge to investigate the sweet fruity goodness that is my sandwich before I have dealt with My ‘glum Mum.’
Why is My Mum glum?*
My Mum has clear droplets of water shaped like tearssliding down both cheeks from the inside corners of both eyes. Something here is not quite right and I screw my face up in concentration. Tears mean someone is sad, sad is worse than glum. People do not usually cry when they are glum, apart from my uncle Roger who ‘suffered from depression’ and cried sixteen times in all of the times when I saw him.
So I think I am safe in declaring that My Mum is ‘sad’ at this moment, she might not be sad in ten minutes time but she is sad right now so I step round the kitchen table with the yellow plastic surface and put my right arm around her shoulders to give her a hug. Now My Mum does something very strange which alarms me and I nearly pull myself away from her, she puts her arms round me, moves her head…