This is my common application essay. Sending this to NYU, Smith college, Bates college, and Drew University. Please be as CRITICAL as you want. Any suggestions will be VERYY USEFUL!!! THANK YOU!!!
"Watson, tell me what you see?"
Confused, I lift my head from my book, placed on the wooden library table. There was no one here earlier. Had I been asleep for that long? I looked up at the wall-clock in front of me. Time had stopped. The second hand didn't tick, the minute hand had been stuck at 59 and the hour hand froze before striking twelve.
"Observe Watson. What can you gather from this humdrum entity?"
I turned my head sharply to the sound of the unfamiliar voice. I saw two, tall men. One was wearing a deerstalker hat, lighting his pipe made out of calabash with an expression of alertness, while the other, strongly built with a small mustache, rubbed his chin and stared at the object with great intensity. As realization came over me, I couldn't believe my eyes. Was it really detective Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson! I attempted to call out to them but my left cheek was still numb from lying on it. What were they looking at? My schoolbag? What could they possibly find out from my schoolbag? I continued watching them as they immersed in their inspection and conversation.
Mr. Holmes kneeled and, with no sense of professionalism, unzipped my bag to start looking through its contents. Watson concluded, while scratching his temple, "Seems like some sort of transportation device, for heavy materials; perfect explanation for its lack of symmetry. Used quite often as it's completely pummeled. And it belongs to someone I suppose."
Mr. Holmes stands up and dramatically raises his head, almost as if sniffing the answer in the libraries cool air. "Perhaps, 'bag' is the remark you are looking for Watson", he says, patting Watson on the shoulder. "A bag, yes. Most likely belonging to a scholar, a young scholar. Various academic interests. Possibly artistic. A great fan of sport, especially soccer. Enthusiastic and flamboyant if I may add. Constantly moving due to compulsion, but nonetheless enjoys it. Dependable and caring, yet straightforward. Good qualities but still human."
"And you figured out ALL this just from looking at his bag?"
"Not a chap my dear Watson, we are inspecting the belongings of a lady. I shall explain. Notice the variation of your 'heavy materials' in her bag. Presumably textbooks, on symbols, mechanics, potions and history along with English literature and French. And on the compartment zipper, there, dangling- miniature rickshaw, statue of liberty and a Namibian number plate- A constant reminder of the country she's from and the places she's grown up. Also, look at all the scribbles on the sac; always occupied and lets her imagination run wild. Badges, 'President: Student Council' and 'Captain: Inter-school house team'. And the extra bag inside? Precisely, soccer cleats and armband, Captain of the soccer team I suppose. Here, the perfect proof of her confidence, a speech to be delivered at her next seminary gathering. A schedule, organized, nonetheless forgetful, also as the stapler and box of band-aids are empty. Delightful, a box of chocolates! Someone's got a sweet tooth, but not all for her, to share. See Watson, it's quite simple; she's ambitions but still grounded. Honestly, if I'd met her I could tell you more.
Watson begins to clap his hands. "You're brilliant Sherlock. Excellent!"
"Elementary. You know my methods Watson. Nevertheless, let us carry on, I must find that book on..." and his voice trailed off.
The clock starts ticking again. And realizing that I was alone once again with a few minutes to spare before my next class, I put my head back down onto page 143 of the 'Sherlock Holmes' novels.
"Watson, tell me what you see?"
Confused, I lift my head from my book, placed on the wooden library table. There was no one here earlier. Had I been asleep for that long? I looked up at the wall-clock in front of me. Time had stopped. The second hand didn't tick, the minute hand had been stuck at 59 and the hour hand froze before striking twelve.
"Observe Watson. What can you gather from this humdrum entity?"
I turned my head sharply to the sound of the unfamiliar voice. I saw two, tall men. One was wearing a deerstalker hat, lighting his pipe made out of calabash with an expression of alertness, while the other, strongly built with a small mustache, rubbed his chin and stared at the object with great intensity. As realization came over me, I couldn't believe my eyes. Was it really detective Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson! I attempted to call out to them but my left cheek was still numb from lying on it. What were they looking at? My schoolbag? What could they possibly find out from my schoolbag? I continued watching them as they immersed in their inspection and conversation.
Mr. Holmes kneeled and, with no sense of professionalism, unzipped my bag to start looking through its contents. Watson concluded, while scratching his temple, "Seems like some sort of transportation device, for heavy materials; perfect explanation for its lack of symmetry. Used quite often as it's completely pummeled. And it belongs to someone I suppose."
Mr. Holmes stands up and dramatically raises his head, almost as if sniffing the answer in the libraries cool air. "Perhaps, 'bag' is the remark you are looking for Watson", he says, patting Watson on the shoulder. "A bag, yes. Most likely belonging to a scholar, a young scholar. Various academic interests. Possibly artistic. A great fan of sport, especially soccer. Enthusiastic and flamboyant if I may add. Constantly moving due to compulsion, but nonetheless enjoys it. Dependable and caring, yet straightforward. Good qualities but still human."
"And you figured out ALL this just from looking at his bag?"
"Not a chap my dear Watson, we are inspecting the belongings of a lady. I shall explain. Notice the variation of your 'heavy materials' in her bag. Presumably textbooks, on symbols, mechanics, potions and history along with English literature and French. And on the compartment zipper, there, dangling- miniature rickshaw, statue of liberty and a Namibian number plate- A constant reminder of the country she's from and the places she's grown up. Also, look at all the scribbles on the sac; always occupied and lets her imagination run wild. Badges, 'President: Student Council' and 'Captain: Inter-school house team'. And the extra bag inside? Precisely, soccer cleats and armband, Captain of the soccer team I suppose. Here, the perfect proof of her confidence, a speech to be delivered at her next seminary gathering. A schedule, organized, nonetheless forgetful, also as the stapler and box of band-aids are empty. Delightful, a box of chocolates! Someone's got a sweet tooth, but not all for her, to share. See Watson, it's quite simple; she's ambitions but still grounded. Honestly, if I'd met her I could tell you more.
Watson begins to clap his hands. "You're brilliant Sherlock. Excellent!"
"Elementary. You know my methods Watson. Nevertheless, let us carry on, I must find that book on..." and his voice trailed off.
The clock starts ticking again. And realizing that I was alone once again with a few minutes to spare before my next class, I put my head back down onto page 143 of the 'Sherlock Holmes' novels.
