My english description coursework

Boo-B-Q , Wednesday, 11th of August 2010 11:58:42 AM

Victorian railings marked the entrance, rusty and forgotten, coated in a

Boo-B-Q

green outdoor paint. A cold staircase with an ornate cast iron banister

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running down the center, lead to the swallowing chasm beneath. A cold,

Joined: Friday, 28th of May 2010, 22:56:38

dark platform, damp from the winter morning dew, lay in wait at the foot

Posts: 1399

of the staircase. Pots of tea and coffee, placed on the counter of a

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platform coffee shop, steamed merrily in the cool air. A wooden bench
stood against a wall facing the tracks, screwed firmly to the chewing gum
strewn floor, with a memorial plaque attached in the center.
With
some kind of woollen scarf at his neck, a slender figure in a suit of
black and dark grey and long coat, sat with an attaché briefcase upon his
lap. A steaming throwaway teacup was at his side. His facial features,
hidden by the shadow of the nearby pillar, seemed wise and well aged. His
shoes were of the darkest black, laced tightly and polished perfectly. In
the half-light, seeing where his legs ended and his feet began was a
difficult feat.
A cold, to chill the bone marrow, the taste of
rushing wind, erupting from either side of the slithering snake-like
tunnel meant the arrival of a train. Encasing people like mice in a cage,
a claustrophobic, two coloured cylinder of aluminium and ice cold steel
would rush along the tracks and come to a halt with the whine of
electrical motors.Metallic wheels and grills were underneath the carriage,
like a giant heart in the belly of a cold-blooded snake, working its way
through the undergrowth in a beautiful glissade. Fangs and hisses, below
the surface, venom waits to disembarc.
Like a sentinel, a young
woman stood a small distance from the track. Brown, high heeled boots ran
up her leg, to the knee. Her coat fell just above, masking her skirt from
sight. Her coat was of the finest cashmere mixed with wool. It had
buttons, oddly out of place on her chest, like the tailor was drunk at the
time. Her collar was slightly open, just to shield her from the icy wind,
revealing the chain of a small silver pendant laying against her breast.
Hair, dark brown, brushed her face and neck in the chilling breeze like a
leaf kissing the surface of the ground before being lifted up once more.

The white and blue varnished brick gave the walls a metallic and
surgical appearance, like the scalpels and clamps under operating theatre
lighting would glisten. The brick ran the entire length of the platform.
Opposite the platform, a cement wall, reinforced with steel rods, glowered
at the onlooker, a great mythical being shaking its head and crouching
warily. The opening to the endless, spiralling network of tunnels seemed
to draw the eye like some indecent image that had been discovered by an
unsuspecting guest.
A small walkway lead to a car-park, abandoned
and assimilated by deviant teenagers. Cider with their underageand
ciggerettes with their hoddies, striving to look expensive while remaining
''street”. All their primal desires, seemingly satisfied by the bad
company that meeting in a car-park could bring. All too suddenly, the
night is over and commuters will have to walk disgustedly passed discarded
condoms and plastic bottles: little reminders that corruption is strife
among the corruptible.

What grade etc would l get for
this description, have you anny suggestions? thanks

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