Descriptive Essay - Original Writing - 1132 Words

As I sat in my blue beanbag chair in the corner of the room one Sunday afternoon, with the neon green window drapes next to me blowing and waving in the breeze, and a cup of tea in my hands, I began to reminisce. Staring at the adjacent corner of the room, at the vertex where the ceiling and two walls meet, I started to daydream. Flashbacks occurred in my head of just two months ago, of my grandmother and I trekking arduously through the snow, clutching a thermos in her hand. Despite the scraping cold wind blowing in our face, we pushed through. We moved slowly, inch by inch, but as long as we made it to the senior apartment building we would have done our job. People could rarely be seen even in the Financial District of the city†¦show more content†¦The carpet was a bright red, with salmon-colored wallpaper and bowl light fixtures above us that hung every three doors down or so; they seemed to be the most lively objects we had seen today. 306 was on the right side, about halfway down the 3rd floor corridor on the west wing. Once my grandmother and I arrived, we rang the doorbell, and a few minutes later my great-grandmother appeared. We came in and greeted her like we always did, which really just consisted of asking her how she was doing, but her response was made all the difference. At 90 years old, she was a very healthy woman. At that particular moment, she was probably healthier than us as we sat on her couch coughing and sniffling. She did not have a record of diseases. She had a tendency of a few quirks here and there, but nothing too out of the ordinary. We gave her the thermos; she opened it up and began drinking the yellow bean and carrot soup slowly. She offered us some packaged snacks, but we declined. We just wanted to rest in the warm heat of the apartment and be with my great-grandmother. I found solace in being in her presence and I slowly drifted asleep. I awoke to my great-grandmother singing one of those random tunes your elders sing at home and you’re always unsure if your elders made it up on the spot or was a legitimate song, but you hear constantly over and over again. She was singing as she washed her hands in the bathroom. When my eyes cleared, I