Descriptive Essay On Sunlight

English Descriptive Coursework
Year 11
Moonlight Sonata – The Last Drop of Sunlight The last drop of sunlight. As serene as shouting and soothing as squealing. Barely a blink before streetlights and windows and signs ignite themselves, shaking off evil as if automatic. The people of Leesburg switch just as easy: from the responsible businessman who has a mischief with the bartender, to the innocent teenager walking beside her boyfriend laughing, trying not to trip over her own vomit. Reminiscence of the rain dries on the sidewalk and the moldy street when the subtle sound of six-inch stilettos clank on the cobbles. The woman gliding along slows her pace and takes a moment to smell the aroma the rain left behind. Her entire body shivers pleasantly

7 ends, the only space waiting to be purged is the bathroom floor. Kneeling down with a bottle of German detergent in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other, the woman scrubs the entire floor with a concentrated wide-eyed look. The very last spot of dirt lies expectantly on the step of the tub; she sprays detergent into the cloth and resumes scrubbing. The gooey green paste remains intact, but now the cloth is entirely stained with the blot’s dye. The aggressive tune of the bows sliding against the violins assimilates the movement of her aggressive fists against the floor, until the violins squeak when the tile cracks and slices her left hand. The song ceases. Charlotte stands up and kicks the detergent to the wall on her way to the sink. She opens the tap and roughly washes the blood off her palm, then removes the sweat, leaving a red stain on her forehead. Her head straightens, catching her reflection in the mirror. Is it correct? Humid, wet hair all over her slightly wrinkled face, eyeliner running from her hazel eyes to her swollen cheeks and to her smudged red lipstick; unrecognizable from the woman walking down the street. The orchestra from Moonlight Sonata starts playing. The substantial heavy notes, vibrating out of the piano, wrap her neck making the veins in her face throb sharply, turning her purple and making her dizzy. The words choking in her throat are replaced by small, secretive and tight gasps of air. With every fiber of her body, she forces herself to stand, but the piano keys shove, push and lash her back, down to the ground where the water starts to accumulate. She slides the white gold key from her sleeve in the attempt to open the wooden ivory door, when the entire floor starts clanging with the falling of dozens of white gold keys, each one heavier than the last one. The migraine caused by the noise makes her entire body become numb and fall. Cold, vacant gasps make the water tremble incessantly as it rises inside the