Essay about Descriptive Writing - Original Writing
As I finish sweeping the floors, the little bell ring signalling someone has entered the store. My head slowly looks towards the sound where I see a blond-haired man standing in the doorway, door wide open.
I huff. "Sir you letting the brisk air in," I snap angrily at him. Take. Fill. Write. Hand. The routine stuck in my head from doing it over and over all day long.
He looks at me before sighing and nodding. "Sorry. Are you closed? As in closed now?"
Groaning, I walk over to him, and point my finger forcefully towards the sign that shows when we open and close. "Five minutes."
He nods and looks at me with pleading eyes. "Can I stay the five minutes?"
I shake my head. "Only if you 're going to buy something."
"Oh...," He says quietly. "I have no money. I 'm homeless," he said almost inaudible. "I 'll get going than," he mumbles turning away to leave.
"Wait," I say grabbing his arm. "You can stay."
"Really? But why? You 're somewhat rude if I may say so," the blonde hair man says.
"Oh, get in here. It 's colder than Antarctica out there," I say pushing him away from the door so I can close it.
"Do you have to be so mean?" He asks sounding annoyed at me.
I walk past him and finish sweeping."No, I 'm sassy not mean"
"You act mean," he huffs annoyed with my attitude. "Why are you letting me stay?"
I stop sweeping and look up at him. "I have a soft side for people like…