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    Descriptive Writing IGCSE

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    Adithya Shetty
    After being shipwrecked for six days and surviving at sea on a raft, the narrator is relieved to make landfall on a beach. However, their relief is short-lived as they are soon shot with a dart by unseen assailants who approach. The assailants turn out to be indigenous islanders who have decorated faces and bones pierced through their features. The narrator loses consciousness as the leader prods them with a stick.

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    Descriptive Writing IGCSE

    Uploaded by

    Adithya Shetty
    1K views4 pages
    After being shipwrecked for six days and surviving at sea on a raft, the narrator is relieved to make landfall on a beach. However, their relief is short-lived as they are soon shot with a dart by unseen assailants who approach. The assailants turn out to be indigenous islanders who have decorated faces and bones pierced through their features. The narrator loses consciousness as the leader prods them with a stick.

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    Igcse model answer English

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    After being shipwrecked for six days and surviving at sea on a raft, the narrator is relieved to make landfall on a beach. However, their relief is short-lived as they are soon shot with a dart by unseen assailants who approach. The assailants turn out to be indigenous islanders who have decorated faces and bones pierced through their features. The narrator loses consciousness as the leader prods them with a stick.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    1K views4 pages

    Descriptive Writing IGCSE

    Uploaded by

    Adithya Shetty
    After being shipwrecked for six days and surviving at sea on a raft, the narrator is relieved to make landfall on a beach. However, their relief is short-lived as they are soon shot with a dart by unseen assailants who approach. The assailants turn out to be indigenous islanders who have decorated faces and bones pierced through their features. The narrator loses consciousness as the leader prods them with a stick.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    of 4

    After six days shipwrecked and living at

    the mercy of the tumultuous sea alone in


    a tiny raft, the hard weedy sand under
    my feet was as welcome as a Starbucks
    café. I never thought I would do it, but as
    soon as I had crawled out of the water, I
    dropped to my knees and kissed the white
    salty beach below me.

    Tiny black crabs scuttled for shelter under


    the sun-bleached rocks that encircled the
    small cove I had landed in. From the
    position of my shadow and the glaring sun
    overhead, I judged it to be mid day,
    though the days on the raft had started to
    stretch into an unimaginable epoch.
    Exhausted and relieved, with the sound of
    the gentle sea behind me and the breezes
    gusting through the palm trees in front
    lulling me, I merely sat on my knees and
    took it all in.

    Up above the small beach I sat upon was a


    dark rocky horseshoe-shaped outcropping;
    it would provide a good shelter. Beyond
    that, a dense forest of palms and other
    fruit trees swayed lackadaisically in the
    island breezes. The bright yellow dates
    hanging in great bunches beckoned me,
    making my mouth water with the thought
    of their flavour - heavy, robust, sweet
    dates, hanging there like beacons.

    Just then the tranquility was shattered by


    a whizzing that shot past my ear. Was it
    an insect? Another whiz and a stinging
    sharp pain in my thigh - instinctually I
    smacked at it, but it was no wasp. My
    hand knocked a home-made dart out of
    my leg, which was followed by a rivulet of
    blood.

    Shooting my eyes around among the trees


    and rocks, I could not see my assailants,
    but no more darts came. I did, however,
    hear voices speaking in a strange language
    made up of sounds I did not recognise. The
    gurgles and booms they spoke sounded like
    many wounded soldiers crying out in a
    WWII hospital dorm.

    My vision was becoming blurred and my


    ears muffled, but at last they approached
    me, the people of this island. A small gang
    of perhaps ten men, dark skinned like
    myself, but less hairy; tall, lanky, with
    long legs and arms that swung down like
    tree branches, their bodies bare except for
    animal-skin loin cloths and painted red
    ochre and white ash geometric designs on
    their chests and faces, and vicious pointed
    bones jabbed through their ear lobes and
    noses.

    As the apparent leader, with a mass of


    black feathers woven into his shock of
    ruddy hair, poked at me with a pointed
    stick, I passed out.

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