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- Feb 13, 2005
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I'm revising a couple paragraphs I'd like to ask for advice on.
I'd like to know if it is descriptive enough, if it visually captures the sights and smells. Or if it needs more work.
Greg and Linda are paying a visit to a restaurant in Old Pasadena they've never been to: "Rome," an Italian restaurant. This is a happy visit for them, they're kind of on a date. It is here they will discuss their twelve-year anniversary plans. They will also visit the same restaurant later in the book when he reveals his lies and she leaves him.
Rome wasn’t too busy. Only about half the tables in the dining room were filled. As the hostess led them to a table, Greg’s mouth watered at the sweet aromas of garlic and parmesan wafting through the air. The kitchen door swung open and a bow-tied server walked out carrying plates piled with steaming spaghetti and garlic bread. Greg heard two men inside the kitchen argue loudly in Italian.
Greg loved the Old World Italy decor. He and Linda were surrounded by stucco walls showing small patches of exposed brick. A large fireplace with a rack of clay pots and vases dominated one wall. Plastic ivy was draped on iron trellises in the corners and adjacent walls. Their table was covered with a white and red checkered cloth. The flame of a red candle plugged into an old wine bottle flickered between them, illuminating the pages of their menus. Large rivulets of wax had dripped down the sides forming circular mountain ranges with blurred red and green valleys.
Greg smiled. You didn’t get much more Italian than this place.
I'd like to know if it is descriptive enough, if it visually captures the sights and smells. Or if it needs more work.
Greg and Linda are paying a visit to a restaurant in Old Pasadena they've never been to: "Rome," an Italian restaurant. This is a happy visit for them, they're kind of on a date. It is here they will discuss their twelve-year anniversary plans. They will also visit the same restaurant later in the book when he reveals his lies and she leaves him.
Rome wasn’t too busy. Only about half the tables in the dining room were filled. As the hostess led them to a table, Greg’s mouth watered at the sweet aromas of garlic and parmesan wafting through the air. The kitchen door swung open and a bow-tied server walked out carrying plates piled with steaming spaghetti and garlic bread. Greg heard two men inside the kitchen argue loudly in Italian.
Greg loved the Old World Italy decor. He and Linda were surrounded by stucco walls showing small patches of exposed brick. A large fireplace with a rack of clay pots and vases dominated one wall. Plastic ivy was draped on iron trellises in the corners and adjacent walls. Their table was covered with a white and red checkered cloth. The flame of a red candle plugged into an old wine bottle flickered between them, illuminating the pages of their menus. Large rivulets of wax had dripped down the sides forming circular mountain ranges with blurred red and green valleys.
Greg smiled. You didn’t get much more Italian than this place.