Is this any good for an 8th grade writing assignment?

baby backpack london image

Adele

Alveredâs Private Cold Case Detective Firm, as it is so uncreatively named, is nestled in the bustling streets of New York City, a place where crimes are lurking in every niche; a place where cases go cold within mere weeks as others fill up and take their place. And though Alveredâs itself was simply a couple of offices in a small, dingy building in the middle of Harlem, it was the desperate families of the victims who ended up going there, ones who could hardly afford to pay their rent, the ones trying to live the American Dream. One of the detectives in the measly little firm, a 35 year old Londoner named Elvira Morris, was trying to do just so. Having lived the rough life of an immigrant herself as she traveled to the states with only a backpack and $30, she, if any detective, would understand their struggles. But sometimes, peopleâs pride run too high for any of it to show. They try not to make it obvious, attempting to hide behind a different persona, but deep down, they are all still haunted.
It was the harsh abrupt clanging of the bells of the doorway that roused Elvira to her senses as she glimpsed at the battered wooden door of her office. She quickly hopped to her feet in an acute, almost childish manner as she rose to her full 5 feet 3 inches and opened the door, dreading what was she thought was to come. Just the sheer thought of the obnoxiously loud, repetitive demands from her hideous boss made her sick.
But instead, a shabby, 40 something woman clutching a yellow police file stood just inside the doorway. Her short black hair was streaked with strands of grey, bristling above her ears in a buzz cut and depriving her of what seemed to have been her most attractive feature. The woman was ghastly thin, her neon yellow tunic and faded blue jeans hanging loosely on her figure. An ugly patchwork coat that seemed to have been sewn terribly from scratch was tied around her waist, and her sallow, wrinkled face creased with fine lines was slick with freshly shed tears. Elvira stood at her desk, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at the client before her. She knew who this woman was.
âAre...are you....â The womanâs muffled sobs escaped her thin lipped mouth as she struggled to keep it together, her hands shaking with an uncontrollable tremor. Elvira couldnât help but feel some what bad as she glimpsed at the painful looking calluses on the the womanâs hands. It was yet another reminder of her orphaned days as a young girl in London, days she didnât want to remember.
Elvira smiled, regaining her composure, and shook her head. âThe nameâs Elvira Morris. How may I serve you?â Despite almost 10 years of living in the states, her heavy cockney accent had never gone away. Elviraâs words rang in the air as the woman before her struggled to control her emotions. Several painstaking minutes flew by before she was able to find the strength to speak.
âIts my son...â she choked on a sob, âIt was my son, Jacobo. My dear, wonderful, BEAUTIFUL Jacobo Yarmelinko. My baby was taken from me...â Her voice rose higher in pitch as she finished her sentence, âMy baby was taken from me... and he was killed.â
Elviraâs piercing blue eyes lingered on her client. âAnd are you Ira?â she stuttered, drumming her fingers on the desk. âIra Yarmelinko, that cashier at that Shawâs Supermarket I always go to?â
Ira nodded her head, handing Elvira the tattered, yellow crime file that had been clutched in her trembling hand.
âI knew it!â Elvira exclaimed, flashing her cat like smile. âI knew it! You were a total dead ringer for Ira, supermarket girl. I remember seeing you in the fresh produce isle, carrying boxes. But it was the hair. It was the hair that threw me off, you used to have all these tangled black tresses. What happened to your hair?â
âI... I chopped it in honor of my... my... DEAR JACOBO!!!â Iraâs outstretched hand reached in to the depths of her pocket, and she pulled out a long tangle of twisted black hair. Repulsive wads of already chewed bubblegum and dirty nail clippings clung to the already disgusting mass of tresses.
Elvira tucked her purple glitter pen behind her ear and cringed. As an experienced private detective having already practiced for 10 years, she had seen quite the kooky people in need of her assistance. But never had she seen anything like this.
âMs. Yarmelinko-â Elvira snapped.
âMRS. YARMELINKO, you woman. I thought I told you I was a widow, idiot!â
âMRS YARMELINKO, my apologies,â Elvira muttered, rolling her eyes. âLet me review the case file before we all start to go Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs over your dear son Jacobo.â
Iraâs eyes seared with a burning rage as she stormed out of the room, slamming the already abused office door to a crashing close. The desk rattled with the shaking vibrations of Iraâs wrath, leaving the pages stuffed in the rag tailed crime file slipping to the ground beside it. To be continued... I ran out of room...

Answer
The descriptions are great. The mood is good, the setting is good, but you lost it with the dialogue. Nobody who has ever lived, is alive now, or will ever live talks like that. Nobody. "Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs"? Really? No. Just no.

Also, write out numbers less than a hundred.

how do you use any of the following words in a sentence?

Jennie

Ambivalent, cessation, emaciated, enclave, engender, exacerbate, illicit, indigenous, inexorable, infatuated, insatiable, poignant, proselytize

they dont have to be detailed sentences just at least more than 4 words :)

Answer
She was ambivalent about what meal to order

Due to the snow, there was a temporary cessation of wheat on the farm

The poor kitty was so emaciated you could see all of her bones :(

There's amazing food in china town, the scenic enclave in London

His attitude towards her engendered pain in the relationship with his mother

The hayfever season will exacerbate your asthma

The teens hid the stash, they didnt want to be caught with illicit items in their backpacks

The child was inexorable in his venture to a new school

He was so infatuated with her, he would sing to her at night

Her hunger for juicy gossip was insatiable

The picture of the white baby and black baby used for the anti racism ad is so poignant

Although i love animals and respect their rights, i would never try to proselytize fur wearers



:) i think i did an ok job
let me know if i did ok

xx

Powered by Yahoo! Answers

Title Post: Is this any good for an 8th grade writing assignment?
Rating: 96% based on 987 ratings. 4,7 user reviews.
Author: Unknown

Thanks For Coming To My Blog