Hurricane Island Descriptive Writing

I walked along the warm, sandy shore. The sun was out today, bright as ever. To the left of the shore the Atlantic Ocean sparkled like a blue diamond. My treasure was difficult as it had seemed all the seashells had disappeared. I didn’t mind the challenge because Hurricane Island had the most beautiful shells compared to anywhere else. A glimmer in the grains caught the corner of my eye. I bent over and reached my hand out to touch the pearly, rigid shell. Now the necklace I was working on would be completed. My toes wiggled in the sand out of sheer excitement. Then, in the middle of my bliss, something bumped me, causing me to fall and drop my seashell. Angered, I whipped around and faced the hooligan. Actually, the man was quite

While I was taking each step, I could hear HIM behind me following me. I sat back on the bed with book in hand. There was awkwardness in the air as this man sat on the other bed in the room. “Do these hurricanes come often?” I cocked an eyebrow. I was curious how he didn’t know Hurricane Island’s phenomenal story. “I just moved here, and my name is Avery.” He said, answering my thoughts. It was astonishing that he moved to the island, since most nobody ever did. I put the book back on the nightstand ready to tell him the story, as it was obvious he wanted to make conversation. “There is usually little to none storms here let alone hurricanes.” I told Avery, “Oh, and my name is Sienna.” Avery crossed his arms. “So, Sienna, why is this place called Hurricane Island if there isn’t any storms or hurricanes?” He asked. The way my name rolled off his tongue left me with goosebumps up my spine. “Well, one hundred years ago this was a new island. People were just moving here hoping to start a new life. After everything was built and everyone was settled in there was a huge storm. It wasn’t long before the tropical storm turned into a hurricane. It was the largest hurricane