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For this exercise we took a picture and wrote a descriptive paragraph, detailing everything in it. A lot of writers want to get on with the story, but a good description of the surroundings can place the reader in the scene. Here are a few of our examples.
Description
Bob Nothnagel
I like to people watch while I’m waiting. I don’t normally read magazines so I observe. She didn’t really catch my eye. We were sitting across from one another at the doctor’s office so it’s hard not to notice. She had an oval face, few wrinkles, brown eyes and an average sized nose that came to a point. A touch of mascara, not overly applied, helped accentuate long lashes. Natural, manicured brows separated her eyes from a high forehead. Dark brown hair, parted in the middle, hung straight down past her shoulders. Her head was cocked to the right and strands lay on her shoulder, covering her collar bone. A welcoming smile did not quite reach her eyes. If I had to guess, I’d place her in her mid thirties, but I would starve to death guessing ages at a carnival.
A white, short-sleeved tee-shirt covered a slim body. She was not skinny, nor was she muscular, just fit, without all the running and workouts. A black bra could be seen through the shirt, covering an average bust. Her bare arms were devoid of hair and she had unusually long hands, her shaped nails painted black. The nails seemed natural, not too long, practical. Her left arm rested on the wooden arm of the chair, with her hand dangling over the front edge.
She wore wide legged pants, white with black double-stipes. On her feet were black, open-toed pumps with silver studs on the toe and ankle straps. Her toes, neatly trimmed, were painted black, I assume to match her footwear and thin black belt. She had her left leg crossed over her right, but not in the usual fashion. Her ankle lay just above her knee and her left leg horizontal. The right hand grasped her ankle, holding the leg in place.
She wore no jewelry that I could see, her hair covered her ears. I saw no cell phone nor any indication of a purse. Although we had been waiting for some time, her posture remained firm, with no slouching or fidgeting. We locked eyes and her smile broadened. It was a “doctor’s office” smile, polite but not necessarily inviting conversation. For the first time she glanced up at the clock, wiggled her nose to the side and switched legs. She flicked her hair back and eyed a spot on the carpet. I moved on to the next person.