My Grandmother 's House - Original Writing Essay
My grandma’s house, which seemed to grow smaller as my grandma does, quietly nestled in a quiet street, along the city’s coast on the Black Sea. The house is a small, red cottage-style with green trimming and a beautiful flower garden that led to the front door. There are draping, well established grape vines that covered the roof and a small veggie garden at the back. The air is filled with sea breeze and songs of the seagulls.
Whenever I walk into my grandma’s house, the gateway is her large old wooden closet, so clean and well-organized. Even now closing my eyes, I can remember my grandma’s colorful dresses and skirts, perfectly ironed and draping each to another and the best smelling linens with lavender as the scent. On the wall across the closet there are crookedly hanging family photos, dozens of images, showing us where we have been and where we are going; my grandfather in his marine uniform during World War II; my grandma as a young girl at the neighborhood textile fabric, my mom with a long wedding dress, my brother on his first day at school and me at the dance studio.
Nevertheless the center of this precious house’s is the massive four leg…