Descriptive Paragraph

Jon got up from his chair and went onto the porch. The sharp blas of cold, damp air gave him the chills. The wind was whistling through the trees out by the street. The towering cold front, black as pitch, was marching closer and closer with each passing moment. And the frequent lightning strikes near the horizon gave the cloud an eerie glow. Jon ran back inside, telling everyone to shut the windows before it started to rain.


Return to Adamz Hoemwurk Paij.