The title of your publicationDescription Essay

The Coffee Shop

The empty coffee shop's bells chimed as he walked through the door: a scrawny, short, and grumpy man of around eighty years, John estimated. The old man sat down, took off his hat, and peered out the window.

"Hello, sir, how are you this fine evening?" John inquired. No reply. Desperately trying to avoid the stinging silence, John spoke, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Coffee. Double–double," was the response.

Outside the window, theman saw a group of schoolchildren frolicking about and was immediately reminded of his own childhood. What struggles and hardships had it been filled with! The man, whose name was Henry, was born in a quiet town consisting only of a few families. His parents worked diligently on the farm, earned a couple of bills, and supported their two sons as much as they could. Henry had been determined to stand out from his anonymous hometown. Although he was always compared to his older brother, who surpassed him in all ways, Henry had that drive to be someone worthy of praise and respect. His brother was somewhat of a show–off, a people pleaser, an overly confident young man who, to Henry's discontent, seemed to have immense talents in everything. Henry had always tried his best, but his parents would never pay attention to him. The living room was filled with his brother's trophies, medals, and certificates, and Henry's presence seemed to be waning away by the hour. Eventually, Henry's determination dwindled away to nothing,

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I grab the white headphones and put the EarPods into my ears. Then, I go through a variety of songs until my thumb lingers over the song "You Know Me" by a band named Thunder Dreamer. Quickly, I click play and the world around me stops as the music enters my ears. The soft guitar strums put an end to my over thinking and suppresses my feelings of sadness. By the time the vocals appear in the song, I can only think about music and how happy I am in this moment. By this I mean that hearing music is the equivalent of being at peace. To be more specific, music puts me in every place I've ever felt happiness, tastes as sweet as it sounds and relaxes my overwhelming thoughts. With this said, I am on top of the world when I have the headphones in my ears. I feel as though I can do anything when I am blasting a song by Cage the Elephant on my speaker. Whether I am listening through my headphones or on a speaker, the volume is always the highest it can be. This way, the music penetrates through the walls and through every layer of skin on my body. I know this high level of noise is not good for me, but the music is. Uniquely, music places me back into every dream I've ever forgotten. I am suddenly placed into the dream where I'm a kid and I am laughing as my friends try to catch me in a game of tag. In a matter of three beats, I am a child again and I can only thank music for this. Moreover, when I hearFrank Sinatra's voice playing from my "Classics" playlist, I am put back into the

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Accessorize with a Meaning

It takes up about two inches on my thick, and short middle finger. It is relatively small, yet has been proven to have great importance and meaning. This dented, imperfect circle fits loosely, and comfortably which allows for the constant usage and handling. It has a unique, and undefined shape that compliments the small circles within the accessory. There is a band of a perfect line of small circles that runs infinite in the exact middle of the accessory. The thirteen small circles sit in the small seats of metal all in unison and order. Sharp, pointed tips that look like the top of a vintage castle, pull the pendants on the outsides of the line, up and back down. If you cut the jewel in half, the sides are...show more content...

My sweet sixteen is a night I want to smell, hear, touch, taste, and feel forever. The ring helps me hold on tight to this special time in my life. The ring's unique shape also has a symbolical meaning. The line in the middle represents the stability and exactness in my life. Unfortunately, like everyone else, my life consists of many ups and downs. This ring has inflicted an important realization about my life. When I look down at my finger, I look back

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Dystopian Setting

The city that once had homed thousands and been the most economically successful country ever, was now a contaminated wasteland. The land looked dry, destroyed and lonely. The morning breeze felt like crying sorrows, and the grey deceitful sky awed down at us. In the deepest corner of despair lies dystopia where hope dies. As someone looks through the eyes of the devil, they see his utopia. Only visible by the dim light of the moon was the great wall. Beyond the wall? No one knew. Stretching away from the wall was a humongous bridge that towered the wall. Standing tall on the bridge was a tower, which had two circles that almost looked like eyes. Those mysterious, creepy and dangerous looking eyes stared down at the city giving away a haunting look.

The reek of death hangs in the air throughout the land. Filling the mouths of those who lived in this abandoned land was the taste of burnt garlic. The screams and cries of terror undistinguishable between beast and human fill the ears of the last ones living. The sky, which was lit by the glow of fires, is grey and empty. Decaying bodies and...show more content...

As I walked, the air of this haunted, dreadful and sorrowful land had sucked the life out of everything and roared as humanity began to disappear. As I carried on walking, I noticed that the small fraction of light was getting smaller and smaller, until it had been engulfed into a think black ash like smoke. Aggressively, the wind walked past the building with its cruddy feeling, blowing away all signs of life. Deeper and deeper into the land was a burning car door. The fire roared and crackled. The roaring and crackling of the burning car door merged with the aggressive air and created the loudest sounds ever heard on land. Growing darker, the skies made me feel nauseous. The fear of not waking up if a human fell asleep towered

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All I can do is follow along behind her like a well–trained puppy. "Here, try these on." She slides the crimson, velvet curtain of a changing room open and hangs the dresses on a rack tucked inside, and pushes me inside before closing the curtain behind me. "I'll be right here if you need me." I stand, awestruck before the many–coloured dresses. Gingerly, I reach out to caress the fabrics with my fingertips. Each dress has a soft touch, even the silk ones. After admiring the clothes, I select a simple, turquoise, crepe dress with squared shoulders that cuts in close at the waist. As I stand before the mirror, I hold it against myself and gasp in horror. It will conceal my chest, but will leave the entire length of my legs bare. With the slightest movement, my panties will be on display. I can't possibly wear this, not only because of my scars but my dignity. In repulsion, I slam the dress back onto therack and select the next one, a black, leather dress that appears extremely tight. Oh yes, I'm sure the corset style bodice will hold everything in place, including my ribcage. "Oh gosh," I say aloud as I hold the dress against myself. The plunging neckline leads down to my belly button. The dress joins its associate in the rejection section of the rack.

"Is everything all right?" asks Elodie. "Not exactly."

She yanks the curtain open, causing me to abandon my dismay upon the repulsive clothing and focus it upon her. Vexation materialises on her face as she stares at me, then at the clothes on the rack. "What's wrong? Why haven't you have tried anything on?"

"You can't seriously expect me to wear any of this, can you?"

Her irritated glare penetrates me. "What's wrong with this?" She retrieves a vulgar, ebony, boob–tube made of silk that leaves nothing to the imagination.

My jaw drops as revulsion saturates my self–worth. As I stare at the monstrosity, invisible bands tighten around my chest, my brow creases as I struggle to breathe. With no words, I peep around Elodie, towards Alice, hopeful for her to witness the desperation in my face and jump in to rescue me. It doesn't take long for my Saviour to liberate me.

"Um, Elodie?" She taps her on the shoulder.

Elodie twirls on her heel, the dress still in her

Meadow Descriptive Writing

A crisp breeze bends, splits, and shifts the life around me as I slowly turn, taking in the wide, open meadow. I am in a basin on a picturesque October morning under a soft, blue sky. The mountain is remarkably bold, beautiful, yet, peaceful and right. Golden is the meadow with the yellow leaves swaying on the branches casting their color above me and fallen leaves still vibrant; light swirls and shines above and below. Some branches are bare as fall strips away summer. This meadow situated in the basin of the San Francisco Peaks; a meadow with hay–like grass drying from these bracing waves of winds gives me goosebumps as I shiver my writing slants downwards and then juts up. There is an underlying rattling from this grass all bending to the East from these gusts. Pine needles from the Ponderosas are sprinkled on the ground and crunch under each step I take–crunch, then scatter. I break apart these pine needles and other debris, even some dry leaves from the aspens above.

A meadow with ponderosas, an incline with aspens, all situated on this vast mountain. The wind touches all within its long reach from way up in the cloudless sky to the lowest it can extend, picking up the dirt and blowing it back in my eyes as I write this under a swaying tree. Left then right, and back again with each breeze it comes in waves: calm, a slight tickle as it brushes against me, then slam, and calm again. The breeze sifts through the sand each particle blends into the next. The only

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GCSE ENGLISH LANGUAGE UNIT 3: DESCRIPTIVE WRITING

The Descriptive Writing task in Unit 3 is worth 7.5% of the subject award and is marked out of 20. The mark given for each of the examples provided is supported by comments related to the criteria given in the specification for (i) Content & Organisation; (ii) Sentence Structure, Punctuation & Spelling. A notional grade is indicated in each case, based on the way that the same mark scale forWritinghas been used in the past, and consistent with the uniform mark scale which will be used in the future to report results. However, it is important to note that in practice grade boundaries are determined when units are awarded, and that prior to this individual students' marks are subject to...show more content...

"I can't believe you," she cries, hurls her last insult, and storms away, quickly followed by a small group of girls. They spend the rest of the evening throwing dirty looks at the boys, none of whom seem to care. Spinning faster and faster, the waltzer's occupants scream hysterically. "The louder you scream, the faster we go," an impersonal voice claims on the intercom. As the ride explodes with noise, the operator yawns and throws a lever. Outside his soundproof hut the ride accelerates, then, climax over, it slows and stops. The controller stumbles out of the box and lets the flushed people off of the ride. Some go straight to the back of the queue, others teeter off, stumbling over their own feet. Gritting his teeth, a man in the car park presses the accelerator to the floor, but to no avail. The grass is unrecognisable under all of the mud that has been churned up by the cars that have been coming and going all day. His face reddens as the wheels spin, spraying mud on to a shiny red Ferrari that someone was unsuspecting enough to bring. People are pointing and laughing and the owner of the Ferrari is shouting. Finally, someone is helpful enough to push him on his way and he leaves at top speed, without even bothering to say thank you. On the rollercoaster, a young girl screams, while her older brother looks almost ready to fall asleep. Her best friend in the seat behind is looking slightly green and is very much ready to go home. The little girl whoops even louder

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Descriptive Essay

How to Write a Descriptive Essay

More than many other types of essays, descriptive essays strive to create a deeply involved and vivid experience for the reader. Great descriptive essays achieve this affect not through facts and statistics but by using detailed observations and descriptions. What do you want to describe?

As you get started on your descriptive essay, it's important for you to identify exactly what you want to describe. Often, a descriptive essay will focus on portraying one of the following: a person a place a memory an experience an object

Ultimately, whatever you can perceive or experience can be the focus of your descriptivewriting.

Why are you writing your descriptive essay?

It's a great creative exercise to sit down...show more content...

Conventions of Descriptive Essays Illustrated by Sample Paragraphs

Appealing–to–the–Senses Description: Let the reader see, smell, hear, taste, and feel what you write in your essay. The thick, burnt scent of roasted coffee tickled the tip of my nose just seconds before the old, faithful alarm blared a distorted top–forty through Get

My grandmother was a tough lady.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, crissВcrossing over her thin, frail fingers.

I remember holding her hands as a child, how delicate and soft they seemed and yet that never made them seem any less worn or sturdy. Her hands told stories of different times, of different worlds and hardships. She had grown up worlds away from me, in a different land, at a different time, in an era and a life that I would never know.

My grandmother had stories.

But, she never told stories. Her stories were in the way she ate – she savored her food, cherished it. Often she would be...show more content... She was seldom outwardly affectionate. She didn't need to be. When I wrapped my arms around her small frame, afraid I would break her, she responded with a strength disproportionate to her size.

She held tightly, like she was holding on for dear life, and then she let go, she smiled and she moved on.

My grandmother was an intelligent woman.

She had little schooling, but she had run businesses. She had managed on her own, with a husband and sons, in a country that didn't care for her or her culture, but only for their aggrandized version of it. Her experiences were rightful cause to be jaded and hard, and yet she saw brightness and she saw brightness in me. She saw the great things in life, she loved hard and appreciated the little things – us going for a walk together or just sitting in the sun on a warm day.

My grandmother's stories were in her complaints.

My grandmother complained about petty things: things that I would complain about. But she never complained about life and she never complained about pain.

My grandmother had developed a brain tumor, which when removed, removed much of her immediate memory. For a long time, she didn't remember my name. She had no idea who I was. But she tried and she learned.

She understood perseverance and the importance of people and she carried on against all odds. The last time I spoke to her, she knew exactly who I was, despite

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Reflecting on important places to me, one in particular comes to mind, my kitchen. My kitchen has gone through years of change but yet still managed to maintain the same feeling throughout my life; the feeling that I was home. Because of the layout, the only entrance to my home was through the kitchen throughout most of the year, making it something I experienced virtually every day of my life. My kitchen has proven itself as a place where people would come, food would be made, and loving memories created with family both in the present and past, making it the first thing I think of when referring to what I think of home. My kitchen was distinctively cold throughout the entirety of the year regardless of the seasons, but was constantly warmed by the presence of visiting relatives or close family talking, cooking, or pestering my grandmother to make them food. I distinctly remember braving the frigid hardwood floor on many occasions to acquire a quick snack, or to give my mother a much–needed hug and kiss before she left for her night–shift at work. When entering the kitchen, you never knew who would be sitting in the chair across from my grandmother, adding to the combination of delight and dread when entering the kitchen. Would my brother be in the designated red chair across from my grandmother asking for food or would my cousin be sitting there fiddling with the papers that littered the table? The impetuous shock of the cold floor combined with the mystery regarding who

The place where I feel the most comfortable, and show my personality, is my bedroom. This is the place where I can really be myself and do what I want; it's the place I come home to, and wake up every day. My room makes me feel comfortable because it is my own space. My house is always crazy, with my dog barking, and my siblings running around making noise, my room is the only place in the house where I can come and relax without caring about everything else, the only place that I can go to clear my mind.

My room has many characteristics of which I share; it has many pictures that I have taken, about my friends or other interesting things that I have found. It is the only place that I can make my own, I can be creative and decorate...show more content...

Another reason that my room makes me feel comfortable is that I love to dance, but I am embarrassed to do it in front of other people, so whenever I am in my room I can turn the radio and put on some of my favorite music and dance my best. My room gives me the confidence that I don't have in other places, it helps me to have trust in myself, I can do the most ridiculous thing but my room won't say anything, it will never judge me. My room is the only place where I will try new things and if I feel confident I will try them outside of it. I will give it my best and that is how my room helps me, by doing something there first I believe more in myself.

It is the place where I can concentrate and think about everything that is going on around me, not only around my city or state, but all over the world. I get the chance to relax and think in what I want to do with my life, the kind of future I want to achieve. My room is the place where I can go and do my homework without getting distracted, where I can write down my feelings and open my mind to new ideas. Many times I have gone to my room and just write about things that are going around in the world that will affect me sooner or later, like global warming. I will think about everything I have heard, and my room makes me feel comfortable like there is nothing that can stop me from making a comment and saying what is on my mind.

The way I act in my bedroom, and the way I act outside are

Great waves toss and turn with great force. Rushing as they collide with the earth soaking the soft sand. The ocean seemed to be howling as every wave grew as tall as a mountain. Slowly, the water creeps forward, then lazily seeping back in the vast ocean, only to do the same over and over again. The deep sea is a mysterious place where sea creatures lurk beneath the waves. Blue, sparkling water is everywhere you look with no end. The humming waves seem to whisper as if telling me the most confidential secret. You can never really hear them clearly until you dive in deeper and deeper. I breathe in the warm air as I gaze out at my beautiful home. So wide I'm not even certain I've seen all it's beauty that lies beneath. I can see the shadows of tiny fish swimming above the soft sand. They are so small they look as though they are microscopic. I reach down and run my hands through the wet substance that is so thick that my muscles grow tired the deeper my hand goes. As I lift my hand up, the sand makes a cloud of powder, slowly drifting through the water. The waters are so calm as though nothing could anger them. Each wave slowly rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the sea. I lower my fins beneath the water and a coolness rushes through me as I feel the cold, wet water. The soft breeze brushes against my skin with the scent of an indescribable satisfaction. Hours passed as the warmth of the sun seemed to just soak into my skin and relax my mind. As the day goes on, it

The more I learn about art in art class the more I pay attention to everything I see. I try to understand the meaning of each art I see, and what the artist is trying to inform me or to the world. In the study of art you have to pay attention to every detail in an art work and what color or shapes he or she used. Of all the art works that I saw in the Museum of Fine Arts, there were three art works which I preferred out of hundreds of arts works in the museum. The very first art work that I saw at the museum is one of my favorite ones. The artist that created the art work his name is Frederic Remington. His art work is an American made in 1861–1909. The painting was made with oil paint on canvas to make it look shinny. The painting is representational because the three horse raiders resemble real things from the real world. In this painting Frederic Remington creates tension by suspending the action at its climax. As the raiders and horses rush headlong into the viewer's space, the fate of the fallen raider is unclear. While the facial expressions of the raiders appear calm, the rearing heads and flared nostrils of the horses convey the horror of the scene. His painting catches your eye right away because of the light colors he uses to distinguish between the sky and the terrain. The color of the sky looks very realistic because of the combination of colors blue and white. Yet he didn't use white for the clouds, but you can tell that it is sunny because of the shadow that Get

Summary

Set on a ridge overlooking the beautiful Olympic mountains –you will truly love this unique home. A blend of Japanese and northwestern architecture gives the house a perfect feel for a relaxing yoga retreat or any vacation. With its traditional Tatami room and spectacular Japanese blue tile roof this spacious home will give you the sublime rest and rejuvenation that you deserve!

Space

You'll love this house!

В· Spacious house with open floor plan

В· Traditional JapaneseTatamiRoom/meditation room

В· 65 in 1080p tv with HBO

В· Large Deck and backyard with gorgeous views

В· Large yard immaculately landscaped

В· High end cooking appliances

В· Massive master suite with large bathroom

Come stay in this beautiful house ! Whether you're trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city or want to fulfill your love of adventure – this house has everything you could hope for. This spacious house can easily accommodate big groups and has an open concept floor plan with big windows that keep the house really bright and sunny.

This home has it all: modern amenities, a quiet location, and proximity to all that the Olympic Peninsula has to to offer ! This gem of a house provides luxury with all the comforts of home. With 4 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, the whole family can sit back and relax in comfort. There is space for everyone, whether you want to relax, practice yoga or explore the Olympic peninsula.

Descriptive Essay About A Hero

When talking about a hero, some people might think of a veteran, a fire fighter, or even superman. The definition of the word "hero" varies between different people; however, my definition of a hero is someone who is selfless, brave, and strong. Someone who doesn't runaway when things get hard, who gives their all just for the wellbeing of others regardless of the strain it puts on themselves. When thinking of the word "hero" the only person who comes to my mind is my cousin Cassy. Cassy fits my own personal description of a hero; she is selfless, brave, and strong. She doesn't run away when things get tough and most importantly, she looks out for others no matter what the situation is. What is a hero to you? On September 24th of 2017, my parents, along with my sister and I, walked into my grandma's house around three o'clock in the afternoon. My aunt Patty had told us she had very important news for us to hear that evening. As we sat down in the living room of my grandma's small condo, everybody looked at one another awkwardly waiting for someone to speak first. My mom started the conversation by asking how long my aunt was going to be in town. My aunt slightly teared up as she tried to spit out her response. She began to tell us that she was actually moving back home to Fargo from the farm place her and her boyfriend lived at near Devils Lake. My aunt started to stutter after a while and then finally blurted out the sentence that nobody ever wants to hear come from a loved

Descriptive Essay Final The downtown metropolis can be a complex place, and some may need to become accustomed to it. It is Five O' Clock in the afternoon. The sun is starting to drag itself lower, dimming the landscape, leaving a majestic orange on the horizon. The towering structures above leave enormous shadows on the people below. Car horns ring and sirens pulse, as the people make haste towards there destinations, rushing aggressively as if though it is a race. The end of the work day has just began. The craze is unique from anywhere else. An endless flow of people and vehicles seem to liter the area. A man can be seen making his way towards a small parking lot. The parking lot has not been taken care of for some time. Potholes...show more content...

Lush, green trees are everywhere. Every house and small business seems to have one or two of them. The car makes it's way down a small street, with old fashioned houses. The car comes to a halt in front of a beautiful tan house. The house feels cozy. The tan painted planks of wood stack up until they reach the charcoal shingles of the rooftop. Two enormous windows are on the front of the house, with fine, white curtains that can be seen hanging from them on the other side. On the left side of a house there is a large chimney, which gives the house a traditional look with it's brown and red bricks. In the front yard of the house there is a smooth, clean concrete walkway to the front door, surrounded by many bushes, and flowers; trimmed perfectly. This house is well kept, and it stands out as a beauty in the neighborhood. The man walks up his paved walkway, and into the house through a large white door, with four small windows on it, and a cross like pattern beneath them. The doors gives of the look as if it is an entryway to heaven. The house is peaceful. Only the birds chirping in the trees can be heard. And as the man enters his house excited children raise there voices, "Daddy Daddy!". This family man is

When you mention New York to anyone, they automatically think about Times Square. This beautiful place with skyscrapers, Central Park, and a unique transportation system. However, if you were to ask me what I think about New York; I believe the skyscrapers block the sun, Central park is just a regular park for dogs, and the subway trains rarely run consistently especially in the mornings. I have lived in New York for 18 years, and I have yet to understand what everyone likes about the " Big Red Apple." Growing up as a resident of New York, one is taught that there's an opportunity in every corner, but that's not exactly what I see. I have gone to all the tourist sights, and have yet to find it as fascinating as other states such as: California, Florida, Virginia, Boston or even Washington D.C.. Times Square was beautiful in the beginning, but then you get harassed by every person with a costume on, or even if you take a picture with Elmo they charge you five dollars. Everything is also overpriced, no one should be paying a hundred dollars to ride on a horse, or paying three dollars per minute on a bicycle ride. Many neighborhoods have changed, if you go down to Brooklyn it is now hipster, and isn't the way it was before which was considered the "ghetto." Everyone is paying for an experience that can be found in any state and at any time. Also, the traffic that goes on in the trains and on the streets is insane. Whether you take the Long Island expressway, the Clearview expressway or any other expressway you are going to find traffic. New york is probably known as one of the most rat infested city. There are many programs that try to end the rat dilemma, but the rat population is so large that it's hard to control. Not only are rats found on the train, they are also found in neighborhoods such as the Bronx. Many people complain about the rat situation to the city, but the homeowners take no action when it's time to clean up their own mess (Bragdon et al., 2007–2009). Many of the rats that are seen all over the city are huge, and go crawling around for any food that they can find, mainly in trash cans. Whitestone, Queens is the neighborhood that I grew up in. Whitestone is a small community, predominantly Get

Agency Description Sample

Agency Description 1. My placement is at a group home which is located in a quiet neighborhood at 11 Resolution Crescent. This agency (Community Living Toronto) has been around since the late 1970s, and thus, has been providing its services for approximately 40 years. In particular, they cater their services to middle aged individuals with intellectual disabilities. Essentially, the mission/vision statement of Community Living Toronto is to promote the Bill of Rights for individuals with intellectual disabilities and to have a society characterized by inclusivity, acceptance, and collaboration, respectively. The house has a ramp and a private van outside, and an elevator inside to assist their residents' transportation. Also, the basement consists of an office, staff washroom, storage room, and laundry room, while the main floor consists of a living room, kitchen, washroom, and 4 bedrooms for the 6 residents or clients. In order to be one of the residents, one must be referred.

When there is vacant spot, the applications of individuals are processed through DSO (Developmental Services...show more content... The agency is involved with a nurse but the nurse does not visit the group home on a daily basis. The role of the nurse is to train the support workers for certain skills/interventions, such as the use of nebulizers, insulin, peritoneal dialysis, suppositories, and enemas. Also, the nurse provides information regarding the feasibility of each intervention. As a nursing student, I can help the agency through health promotion strategies. For instance, my preceptor told me that they have a limited understanding of COPD, a medical condition that one of their resident has. Since I have more knowledge about the pathophysiology, signs/symptoms, medications, and nursing interventions of COPD, I can share this knowledge with the staff and the residents. By providing this education, I can help prevent further complications and promote the health and well–being of the Get more content

Essay 1: Car Accident The clock read 4:38 pm and we knew we had to be home by 5:00 pm. Ifraz and I sat patiently in the car waiting for Nida and my sister. As soon as they arrived, we quickly left on our excursion back home. The sun began to set through the cracks in the clouds and darkness was creeping in. The day consisted of a few sprinkles here and there which was just enough to moisten the roads. On the journey home, I was in the driver 's seat while Ifraz was beside me and my sister and Nida were in the back. We all got lost into our conversations and had a great time telling jokes to one another. I kept my eye on a dark blue car right in front of us which seemed to be in a rush. Just as I took my eyes off the car and looked at Ifraz to speak to him, the car in front of us swerved into the right lane. As I looked back onto the road, I searched for the dark blue car, but it was already ahead of two cars in the right lane. My vision turned back to the road in front of me. Just as I did so, my stomach clenched and I held in my breath as I saw a stopped vehicle waiting to turn left about 30 feet in front of me. Thoughts began flooding into my mind on how to maneuver around this vehicle. As I looked to my right for an escape route, another car was right beside me, blocking the getaway. I abruptly pressed on the brakes and all I heard were the tires screeching, trying to grasp onto the slippery road to stop themselves. Time seemed to slow down a great deal while we tried

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