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Descriptive Essay

            The life of a coffee addict is not an easy one. It is full of anxiousness and stress. I can only start my day after I've downed that first cup of Java. It's the only way to survive. .
             I wake up just early enough to throw on a pair of ratty old sweat pants and my favorite sweater, tattered from years of abuse. Fumbling with my sneakers, I hear a sharp snap as an unexplainable pain runs down the tip of my finger. My precious, perfectly manicured nail! There is no time to fix it. I can already feel the caffeine deficiency wreaking havoc on my brain. I must get to the corner coffee shop.
             As I open the door to the real world, I am hit by a sharp burst of cold air. Shivering, I pull my sweater even closer to my tired body and trudge on. I would much rather be sleeping in my warm cozy bed, but this is the only way I can survive the day. Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! The sound of those miserable, winged creatures is going to make my head burst. Each step is an increasing effort, but a necessary evil in order to obtain that single cup of dark liquid that will inevitably ease my pain and mark the beginning of the day. .
             As I walk further away from my precious abode, the air bites furiously at my ears and nose. Quickening my step, I veer away from fellow coffee seekers, not yet ready to utter a good morning. The unmistakable scent of coffee is in the air. Knowing that I can't be far, my steps quicken and my pulse begins to race. My lungs fill with the sweet assuring scent of fresh scones and muffins. I see the shop! .
             Momentarily, my heart stops. Unable to contain myself, I let out a little "Yippee!" I reach for the door to heaven, and as I pull it open I"m hit with a burst of hot air entangled with the luscious scents of espresso and warm bakery delights.
             I feel a thud as my heart drops, and I notice the mile long line to the counter. Filled with anticipation, I join the throng and wait my turn.

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