The television set produced the only light in the room as my siblings and I sat curled upon the couch underneath several wool bl
ankets. A massive winter storm had bombarded the region last night, leaving the city covered in a foot of snow. We held our breath and waited for the news anchor to announce the school closings. After several agonizing minutes, we finally heard the news we’d been waiting for: city officials had canceled school for the day. A jubilant squeal erupted from my siblings as they abandoned the warmth of the couch to tell our mom the incredible news. 2Still wrapped in my blanket, I pulled the heavy curtains aside to judge the circumstances outside our apartment. The city below was a ghost town. Normally, buses, cars, and taxis whizzed down the avenue. People usually crowded the sidewalks, hurrying off to work. Even at this early hour, honks and shouts would drift up from the streets below. You grow accustomed to the commotion after you reside in the city for a while. The city was eerily silent today, paralyzed by the storm. The only distinct noise was the vigorous whipping of the wind. The glittering snowflakes hypnotized me—it was as if someone had changed the city into a picturesque winter wonderland overnight. 3As I stared out the window, I spotted a man and his dog trekking through the dark landscape. The flimsy scarf wrapped around his head was hardly effective against the cold. By the way he trudged down the sidewalk, I assumed that he was reluctant to be out and about in such frigid weather. His dog, however, was having a fantastic time—the Labrador retriever enthusiastically leapt into the drifts, rooting around in the snow with his nose. I laughed as the dog tried to involve his owner in the merriment, but the owner didn’t look very amused. As they turned the corner, the spectacular scent of syrup and cinnamon wafted into the living room. From the smell, I was certain that Mom was making French toast. I knew that my brother and sister would consume all of it if I didn’t get to the kitchen soon. Which word BEST describes the narrator?
in paragraph 2, when the narrator compares the city to a ghost town, this is an example of
A) a simile.
B) a metaphor.
The narrator is a young boy or girl who is thoughtful to the very core of the adjective: he/she is really full of thoughts. While his/her siblings are screaming and rejoicing over the fact that there won't be classes that day, our narrator is looking through the window, analyzing what the world looks like under a foot of snow. Every single thing is thought over with detail: the appearance of the streets, the lack of noise outside, the dog trying to play with its owner. Nothing goes unnoticed or "unthought of."
When the narrator compares the city to a ghost town, a metaphor is employed. A metaphor is a figure of speech in which two different things are compared without the use of support words such as "like" or "as." The metaphor states that thing A is thing B in order to attribute the quality of one to the other. That's what we have in "The city below was a ghost town." Certainly, the city is presenting characteristic typical of a ghost town: the silence, the howling wind, the lack of people on the streets etc.
Wilder adds theme to the story by making the reader feel like they are a part of the setting. Wilder uses descriptive detail to describe Paris and the town that people live in. The point that Wilder wants you to know is that 'good things come to those who wait'. This means that you shouldn't expect something to happen if you have not earned it. Don't expect good things to happen if you haven't done any good to receive success.