New Orleans Narrative

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Pages: 4
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As the sun rose over the marsh and the Mississippi River, it sent warm beams of light down to wake up the living. The warm rays of light coming through the windows of an urban Creole townhouse almost woke New Orleans, who began to stir under a pile of soft and fluffy pillows on her comfortable, almost cloud-like bed. Though she had stirred a little when the sun came out to say good morning, it hadn’t woken her up. In fact, she slept for a couple more hours. Finally, when she did slip out of bed to start her day, she looked in the mirror at her own reflection. At first glance, people see a young, lively, radiant woman with thick, tightly curled, dark hair and bronze skin, tanned and toned by the unrelenting sun. But if New Orleans, or anyone …show more content…
Soon, New Orleans arrived at the cemetery, the cemetery where her grandmother had been laid to rest almost two summers ago next to her once loving parents. A New Orleans grandmother was a wonderful, sweet woman who was raised in New Orleans after an accident when she was about nine years old. Her grandmother taught New Orleans many things while she lived with her, including, how to cook, how to socialize, and how to have proper manners while out and about. Her grandmother was also stern and protective, making sure New Orleans did the right thing and abided by the rules of her house. New Orleans still remembers the scary tone her grandmother’s thick southern accent would take whenever she would scold her for stepping out of line. She also remembered the smell of their special homemade treats flowing through her grandmother's house as they worked on a large puzzle, depicting the lovely city, which was almost the size of their table. Unfortunately, the puzzle was never finished and New Orleans hasn’t had the courage to make their special treats since her grandmother’s …show more content…
Inside her house, New Orleans poured herself a cup of ice-cold sweet tea, with extra sugar, and began to pick out an outfit for later that night. She was going out with her friends, they planned on strolling down Bourbon Street, dancing at any place where there was music and partying all throughout the night. She picked out a casual, breathable cocktail dress and accessorized it the same way she had earlier that morning. After eating a great homemade dinner, New Orleans heard the doorbell ring and a light knock on the door. Her friends had arrived at the house. They had a wonderful time strolling down Bourbon Street, living the good life and celebrating every moment as if there was no tomorrow. New Orleans didn’t get home until two or three in the morning, she was exhausted, more than a little under the influence, and ready to go to sleep. As soon as her body plopped down on the mountain of fluffy pillows and soft blankets, she began the finest, deepest slumber of her life with a smile on her face, her shoes still on, and music stuck in her
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