Descriptive paragraphs

1. "On one corner of my dresser sits a smiling toy clown on a tiny unicycle―a gift I received
last Christmas from a close friend. The clown's short yellow hair, made of yarn, covers its
ears but is parted above the eyes. The blue eyes are outlined in black with thin, dark
lashes flowing from the brows. It has cherry-red cheeks, nose, and lips, and its broad
grin disappears into the wide, white ruffle around its neck. The clown wears a fluffy,
two-tone nylon costume. The left side of the outfit is light blue, and the right side is red.
The two colors merge in a dark line that runs down the center of the small outfit.
Surrounding its ankles and disguising its long black shoes are big pink bows. The white
spokes on the wheels of the unicycle gather in the center and expand to the black tire so
that the wheel somewhat resembles the inner half of a grapefruit. The clown and
unicycle together stand about a foot high. As a cherished gift from my good friend Tran,
this colorful figure greets me with a smile every time I enter my room."

2. “My most valuable possession is an old, slightly warped blond guitar―the first instrument
I taught myself how to play. It's nothing fancy, just a Madeira folk guitar, all scuffed and
scratched and fingerprinted. At the top is a bramble of copper-wound strings, each one
hooked through the eye of a silver tuning key. The strings are stretched down a long,
slim neck, its frets tarnished, the wood worn by years of fingers pressing chords and
picking notes. The body of the Madeira is shaped like an enormous yellow pear, one that
was slightly damaged in shipping. The blond wood has been chipped and gouged to
gray, particularly where the pick guard fell off years ago. No, it's not a beautiful
instrument, but it still lets me make music, and for that I will always treasure it."

3. "Once in a long while, four times so far for me, my mother brings out the metal tube that
holds her medical diploma. On the tube are gold circles crossed with seven red lines
each―"joy" ideographs in abstract. There are also little flowers that look like gears for a
gold machine. According to the scraps of labels with Chinese and American addresses,
stamps, and postmarks, the family airmailed the can from Hong Kong in 1950. It got
crushed in the middle, and whoever tried to peel the labels off stopped because the red
and gold paint came off too, leaving silver scratches that rust. Somebody tried to pry the
end off before discovering that the tube falls apart. When I open it, the smell of China
flies out, a thousand-year-old bat flying heavy-headed out of the Chinese caverns where
bats are as white as dust, a smell that comes from long ago, far back in the brain."

4. "Inside, the school smelled smartly of varnish and wood smoke from the pot bellied
stove. On gloomy days, not unknown in upstate New York in this region south of Lake
 Ontario and east of Lake Erie, the windows emitted a vague, gauzy light, not much
reinforced by ceiling lights. We squinted at the blackboard, which seemed far away since
it was on a small platform, where Mrs. Dietz's desk was also positioned, at the front, left
of the room. We sat in rows of seats, smallest at the front, largest at the rear, attached at
their bases by metal runners, like a toboggan; the wood of these desks seemed beautiful
to me, smooth and of the red-burnished hue of horse chestnuts. The floor was bare
wooden planks. An American flag hung limply at the far left of the blackboard and above
the blackboard, running across the front of the room, designed to draw our eyes to it
avidly, worshipfully, were paper squares showing that beautifully shaped script known as
Parker Penmanship."

5. Above it, the sky leered down at us with a manacle-gray hue, like an ashen face. It
seemed to compress down upon our minds, such was its throttling effect. Our hearts
became heavy as both sky and mountain entombed us with an alien emptiness. The
mountains seemed to us to be as inflexible and dangerous as a dragon’s back. Bereft of
either sound or spirit, we stood there transfixed. Even the silence seemed strangled at
that moment. We felt like pasty shadows, insignificant, under the immensity of the
cadaverous sky.

Vocab

● Defenestrate- To throw out of a window, To dismiss someone from a position of

power/authority
● Agathokakological- A complex individual with good and bad elements
● Panglossian-Extremely optimistic
● Cwtch- A hug
● Avarice- Insatiable desire for wealth
● Contrarian- A person who rejects popular ideas
● Arcane- Requiring mysterious or secret knowledge
● Egregious- Extremely evil
● Subterfuge- An act of deception
● Tenebrous- dark and gloomy
● Pule- cry weakly or softly
● Appease- to make peace with
● Brusque- Rude or abrupt in tone or manner
● Decry- Express strong disapproval of
● Infamy- A state of extreme dishonor
● Demure- shy or modest
● Abear- Endure or abide
● Insurmountable- Impossible to solve
 ● Obsequious- Eager to serve or obey someone
● Ostentatious- Expensive or noticeable in a way that is intended to impress other- people
● Noxious- harmful
● Boorish- Crue
● Limpid- Simple
● Carousel- merry go round at a fair
● Warbling- Saying something with constantly changing notes
● Capricious- Prone to sudden changes at mood
● Embittered- Bitter or resentful
● Enigma- mysterious person or thing
● Melancholy- Deep or prolonged sadness
● Laconic- A person, style,speech using very few words
● Truculent- Eager or quick to fight
● Ineffable- Too great or extreme to be described in words
● Abashed- Embarrassed, ashamed
● Alexithymia- The inability to describe one’s emotions
● Foist- Impose an unwelcome person or thing on
● Faineant- Idle or ineffective person
● Vilify- Speak or write about in an abusively disparaging manner
● Erudite- Having or showing great knowledge
● Halcyon- Denoting a time in the past that was idyllically happy
● Confabulate- Engage in conversation, Fabricate imaginary experiences as
compensation for loss of memory
● Perspicacious- Having a ready insight into the manner of things
● Pugnacious- Eager or quick to argue
● Blatherskite- A person who talks for a great length without making much sense
● Flibbertigibbet- A frivolous, flighty or excessively talkative person
● Omnipresent- everywhere
● Incongruous- not in harmony or keeping up with the surroundings or the environment.
● Assiduously- with great care and perseverance
● Impending- an event that is about to happen
● Fetid- smelling extremely unpleasant
● Intermittently- at irregular intervals
● Lurid- unpleasantly bright
● Cornucopia- a symbol of plenty

● Alchemy- Ancient branch of natural philosophy

● Evanescent- quickly passing out/fading from sight
● Arcipluvian- bright and colorful
● Ephemeral- lasting for a marked brief time
● Salubrious- absolutely amazing, occurrence or feeling
Phrases
- light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”
- We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see
nothing else but the other.
- My mind is filled with cataclysm and apocalypse: I wish for earthquakes, eruptions,
floods. Only that seems large enough to hold all of my rage and grief. I want the
world overturned like a bowl of eggs, smashed at my feet.
- The word I use is hubris. Our word for arrogance that scrapes the stars, for violence
and towering rage as ugly as the gods.
- It was at moments like this, high enough to inhale the promise of risk, that the
whittled lines of city streets brought out his lingering melancholy; that l'appel du
vide, the call of the void.
- it's lonely, it's desolate, it's a chilling portrait of vastness.
- That was the torment of it, of art, and the perpetual idolatry of its creation. For
every sensation Regan could conjure, there was an artist who had beautifully
suffered the same.
- Russet ironwork columns spiraled skywards supporting the Corn Market’s unique
and much acclaimed fluro hydrous roof. Created by the eccentric inventor Nimrod
Barm, a turquoise aqueous solution swirled between two iron glass sheets
providing an ever-changing vista.
- Sin meandered through the market, soaking up the atmosphere. The smells of
science wafted from the booths, the sulfurous results of chemical reactions
hanging in the air like a pungent perfume. He pushed into a crowd gathered around
Phileas Pines Technological Timepieces, the press of warm bodies a fleeting
moment of companionship. Soft velvet and wool brushed his bare arms, the
expensive fabric’s touch exquisite compared to the rough sackcloth of his own rags.
- From the booth Phileas Pines held forth. “Ladies and Gentleman, witness the
chronological magnificence of our new ‘Radiant-Active’ watches. Using only the
finest uranium these luminous masterpieces are to die for.”
- Sin jostled past a ruddy-faced punter in a tweed jacket and he sensed a promising
bulge from the jacket’s inner pocket. The world quietened, drowned out by his
quickened pulse. Time slowed; something Phileas Pines would have told him was
impossible. Sin slid his hand under the jacket’s lapel, smooth silk caressing his
palm. His fingers touched cool metal, sensing the shape of the fob watch, exploring
for a securing chain or pin. None found, he grasped his prize and eased his hand
clear. The bustle of the market returned. He thrust the watch into his pocket and
darted away
-

- Hundreds of butterflies flitted in and out of sight like short-lived punctuation

marks in a stream of consciousness without beginning or end

1. ‘A hunched, distorted figure hunched over, matted hair tumbling down’- Scarf
drooping from a coat hanger
2. ‘Fuzzy yet somehow distinct outlines of shapes and shadows, whispers of their
solid daytime presence’
3. ‘I turn to face the wall and am met with flickering illuminations of the muffled
nocturnal city, diluted fluorescent lights sneaking slyly past the incompetence of
my blinds’
4. ‘The impatient bellows of the doctors, their faces invisible behind phantasmagoric
masks, the panicked squeaks of the nurses, mere blurs of blue and white scuttling
around the maze of obstacles. The only constant was the whirring of the
ventilators, which did little to mask the heart-wrenching rhapsody of the ICU’s
discombobulated choir, its percussion provided by hacking abrasive coughs and
strained, gasping breaths’
5. ‘Swathes of crumpled bits of paper, stained half-empty coffee mugs, brimming
laundry bins, their white paint peeling, filled with discarded plastic aprons and
stained bedsheets..’