Document 17911381

An Eyewitness Account
Dear Allison,
When most people hear the word “canvas’” they think of a painter’s easel or a
paintbrush. Don’t you? On the contrary, I think of the sky.
On an early Saturday morning, I had no choice but to open my eyes when my mom
tried to prod me awake in the middle of dawn. When I looked outside my foggy window, the
sky was almost pitch black, showing only shards of indigo. As I gave my mom an
incredulous look, she urgently explained that I had to go to my tennis lesson extra early
because she had to go to work beforehand. I blinked the honey-sweet sleep out of my
drooping eyes as I struggled to put on my tennis uniform. Soon, my mom and I were in the
car in no time.
Before I knew it, the car slowed to a halt near the automatic doors of the Oxford
Athletic Club. My mom wished me luck and was gone in the blink of an eye. After a while, I
looked away from the disappearing silhouette of the car and glanced through the doors of
the club. Deciding against it, I stayed outside to wait for my coach. Why stay outside when I
could stay warm inside? I do not know. My breath came out in white wispy puffs, and I
shivered. I leaned against the biting cold railing and waited.
Suddenly, as if a giant spilled coral pink paint on the whole world, everything was
basked in a warm, pink glow. I looked around in bewilderment for the source of the light.
Then I realized it was the sun. What else could it be? I watched with utter fascination as the
orange ball of fire inched its way up the brilliant blue sky like a sudden vivid splatter of gold
across a calm, blue sea. Not noticing the goosebumps on my legs, I watched as a white
cloud, a piece of a fluffy cotton candy, passed over the sun, outlining itself with gold and
rays of a rich, buttery light filtered through. The bright sun warmed my face, and it thawed
my frozen legs. I could hear the birds slowly stirring as they chirped to indicate the fact they
were awake. Never had I seen a sunrise properly even less a beautiful one. By the time half
of the sun arose, the sky had turned a light baby blue, and the air had an aura of a
freshness and crispness to it.
Without realizing it, the time had passed to the moment where I had to go in. I could
hear my coach’s call as it echoed, “Time to go in!” Looking back at the sun one last time, I
had a feeling that I would never witness a sunrise again like this one. As the bright, yellow
sun rose higher and higher, I jogged back with a peculiar feeling of content. It was the best
sunrise I had ever seen. I really hope I get to see something like this again.
Your Faraway Friend,