The Last Hour

The sun rose up from the back of the mountain into the beaming azure sky, as a sign to greet the crinkle of a new day. The low early sunshine was bluster through the woods and the grass was gray with the dew and the cobwebs were like silver. It was not like the other days that rained. Just beside the yearn channel was a little, dark-wooded tree, about the size of an apple tree. The leaves were whitish and prior papery, like the herb call(a)ed Honesty, and it was loaded with little brown fruits that looked fork of like dates. On the branches toward the top of the tree, there was a grand bird roosting. The tiniest slit of one eye was open. It was larger than an eagle, its breast saffron, its head crested with scarlet, and its tail purple. It was so delightful to collar Nightingales singing their joyful songs in this pleasant climate. It was the loveliest morning, as if immortal had decorated it for me. I felt so wonderful and worked up because now is my fifteent h birthday. I had been time lag for this day for a long, long time. I had invited a lot of my friends especially my outstrip friend, Owen.

And particularly, I was very animated and touched to see my father, mother, and comrade in the kitchen the whole day cooking and arranging all the resplendent food for me. They also ordered the cake that I real liked from the popular restaurant and decorated it for me by themselves. So, these were the closely important present for me. While I was waiting for my friends, I turned on my computer to check my e-mails and the e-card in the Internet. I examine for a second. Sud denly the news popped up. The dry land will! ... If you want to happen a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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