Prompt: Describe your favorite place to get lost"
As I waited for the train to arrive at 125th street, I could not help but pore over my surroundings. Mariachi bands soliciting donations, intricate graffiti sprayed over the station's walls, toddlers crying hysterically over fallen toys, all the chaos was sickening. I needed to get away, fast. (I want to make that part stronger) Seeing the bright glare of the train as it approached, a smile crept onto my face, knowing that in a few minutes, I would arrive at my destination.
Scenic buildings and sidewalks layered with plush green trees greeted me as I stepped off the train platform at 86th street and walked towards 82nd street and Broadway, to the Barnes and Noble that I cherished deeply. The familiar aroma of mocha cappuccinos from the Starbucks Café saturated my senses as I entered through the revolving doors, and I consequently disregarded any prior commotion in the quiet, comforting atmosphere. Here, I was just an avid reader like everyone else, and I loved it. Pleasant smiles embraced me as I made my way towards the second floor to the intimate space between the African American writers' stacks. Grabbing a book, I nestled into my corner, bracing myself for the secrets and truths to be revealed with the flip of each page. For just a few hours, I forgot about the gritty streets of my neighborhood in Harlem, and became lost in all that my Broadway getaway provided.
Any critique is welcomed, thanks!
As I waited for the train to arrive at 125th street, I could not help but pore over my surroundings. Mariachi bands soliciting donations, intricate graffiti sprayed over the station's walls, toddlers crying hysterically over fallen toys, all the chaos was sickening. I needed to get away, fast. (I want to make that part stronger) Seeing the bright glare of the train as it approached, a smile crept onto my face, knowing that in a few minutes, I would arrive at my destination.
Scenic buildings and sidewalks layered with plush green trees greeted me as I stepped off the train platform at 86th street and walked towards 82nd street and Broadway, to the Barnes and Noble that I cherished deeply. The familiar aroma of mocha cappuccinos from the Starbucks Café saturated my senses as I entered through the revolving doors, and I consequently disregarded any prior commotion in the quiet, comforting atmosphere. Here, I was just an avid reader like everyone else, and I loved it. Pleasant smiles embraced me as I made my way towards the second floor to the intimate space between the African American writers' stacks. Grabbing a book, I nestled into my corner, bracing myself for the secrets and truths to be revealed with the flip of each page. For just a few hours, I forgot about the gritty streets of my neighborhood in Harlem, and became lost in all that my Broadway getaway provided.
Any critique is welcomed, thanks!
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