Descriptive Writing: Given an account of your arrival at a very strange hotel. Describe
the building, the surroundings, the staff and the other guests.
Answers
The bright, mellow sunshine outside suddenly darkened into an ominous, black passageway as I stepped into the antiquated hotel. A flickering bulb, casting short burst of light on thick cobwebs and fuzzy spiders hung shakily on a thin wire. The walls were illuminated in bright neon green that was somehow dull as well - like fresh barf. Yuck! Cracks decorated the walls like abstract art, the mossy-green fungus leeching out of the corners and edges, framing it all together. Visceral, gruelling photos were plastered on the decrepit wall.
Shadows were cast under the eyes of the receptionist. His smile was contorted in a frightening way, curled around the edges, and his eyes were abnormally wide open, a puppet - even his arms seemed loose and dangly, his actions extreme and uncontrolled. Hardly formal, a strange tikki doll hung around his neck brought out the palm trees swaying on his Hawaiian t-shirt and beige of his baggy shorts. The rancid scent of incense - blends of jasmine, lavender, and other incomprehensible smells, seemed punch and harass my nose. Bleh! Gingerly handing my credit card to him, I received it caked with dirt and covered in slobber.
Shrill cries seemed to ring from the elevator, so I steered clear and stomped heavily on the creaking staircase, lugging my heavy suitcase around. Obstreperous neighbors trudged by, on a harangue. Hirsute all over, beards growing to their feet, hair curly and uncombed, and eyebrows bushy as could be, they prattled on. An old man bumped into the wall, as blind as a bat, and lost his balance, like a toddler learning to walk. Eerily, his legs kept swinging back and forth like a robotic machine and his words poured out in a static monotone. Willing up courage from the deepest depths of my soul, I lightly ‘staccato-tapped’ a man with the very tip of a sleek, shiny pen, and he suddenly blared “MARCH 18, 1862,” as loud as a fire alarm, as though it was his birthday.
The descriptive text for the given theme is as follows
Descriptive writing
The brilliant, smooth daylight outside unexpectedly obscured into an unfavourable, dark path as I ventured into the old-fashioned inn. A glimmering bulb, projecting a short eruption of light on thick spider webs and fluffy insects hung shakily on a flimsy wire. The walls were enlightened in splendid neon green that was in some way or another dull also - like new barf. Yuck! Breaks adorned the walls like unique craftsmanship, the overgrown green growth siphoning out of the corners and edges, outlining it all together. Instinctive, overwhelming photographs were put on the frail wall.
Shadows were projected under the eyes of the secretary. His grin was twisted in a terrifying manner, twisted around the edges, and his eyes were unusually totally open a manikin - even his arms appeared to be free and hanging, his activities outrageous and uncontrolled. Barely formal, a weird Tikki doll stayed nearby his neck drew out the palm trees influencing on his Hawaiian shirt and the beige of his loose shorts. The foul fragrance of incense - mixes of jasmine, lavender, and other inconceivable scents, appeared to punch and bug my nose. Bleh! Carefully giving my charge card to him, I got it solidified with soil and canvassed in drool.
(#SPJ2)