Sandbox of Gravel (a description of Middle School life)

In the midst of a buzzing cafeteria of practically carnivorous one-sixth graders chomping savagely on their mysterious chocolate-brown nut of cafeteria food, stands a bony middle-aged lady with wild graying brown hair and a white megaphone dangling from her thin shoulders. The luncheon line resembles a fat gourd, wider at the top where many impatient people have decided to undertake, and thinner at the end. I turn my head for a second and find oneself my classmate Ross clumsily slip into the spot ahead of me. Hey, you apologise me, I said bluntly. Pffft, what are you talking just closely? I was here first! Ross yells back dramatically. With her crimson lips pursed and turns on her hips, the bony lady marches over with her unappealing scowl, august over us with her eyebrows all scrunched up together and walks quickly back to the center of the lunchroom bellowing the school yahd iz opeen! The schoolyard is like a mini-world, and you never know when youll discover somethi ng knew. A herd of guys would press around the basketball courts worshipping the orange hoop as their idol, come across another cult would worship the almighty concrete expireball wall. On the outskirts, by the rusting gray fences would be the girls, gossiping some the hottest celebrity, emitting phrases ranging from oh my God! Or drop offo Bloom! to lets try and kill the innocent bee on the floor. The fences used to be my favorite spot, sitting on the composed black gravel and carelessly rocking back and forth on the rusty ol fence. During the summertime, the short and stubby red-bricked school shielded this land of the yard, like an oasis in the middle of a desert. At some point in seventh grade, I stuck my hand into the fence I loved so much and unsuspectingly pulled out... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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