Show Not Tell By Eden M

As I clean the dirty tables of McDonald’s, I hear the sound of a door opening and peer out the glass door.  Business men and women carry their briefcases and books into the restaurant with ease. People of New York creating a wave of noise and footsteps behind them. As the doors swing shut, the noise becomes muffled. The chatter of politics can be heard as I walk over to the sink. I take my grimy cloth and soak it in the pink, soapy water. The greying water jumps up and hits me in the face. I grimace and reach for a towel. The towel feels dry and soft as I dry my face. I continue working until my arms begin to glisten with a sheen of sweat. I decide then to take my leave. I open the doors and walk into the streets of hot New York.