Turning, back into the abandoned wooden house I shut the door only to hear the thunderous echo of the door
Turning, back into the abandoned wooden house I shut the door only to hear the thunderous echo of the door
This is Barney. He’s a Randal. He lives with his family in Carrollton, Alaska. His friends, the little Randals, are planning one last adventure before everyone is forced to move. The first to arrive is Clint and he loves to dance. His favorite move is the “Chunky Monkey". Although his legs are slow to go, his stomach is always on the quest for the next delicious snack. Look out! Crashing through the window is Tito. He’s creative and brave. His inventions tend to get him in and out of trouble. Next time, use the front door! Little Randals can make a BIG mess, but Barney’s Mom would like the house clean before it’s torn down. Be careful with that, Clint. Stinger loves to talk so he’s excited to help translate for Rose who was invited over to…
Aboard the ship called the Seahawk, a series of dreadful actions took place. As I was going to get a needle for a sailor by the name of Ewing, I stumbled across a pistol while rummaging through Ewing’s chest. By the time I was leaving, I realized that there was an extra man aboard the ship. At the realization I decided there was nothing more to do than to contact the captain aboard the ship name Captain Andrew Jaggery. The captain then told the first mate, Mr. Hollybrass, to summon the crew on deck.…
My division was stationed in Normandy, France, at the time of the Allied invasion on June 6, 1944. Toward the end of August or early September, Canadian troops captured me near Dieppe.10 I was with a small group of men who were cut off from our main company and overrun by motorized Allied units. For several days we wandered around searching for our unit, until one night we strayed into a field camp of Canadian soldiers. You can well imagine the astonishment all around when we suddenly appeared in their midst. The Canadians didn’t have a guard posted. This was probably better for all because otherwise we might have exchanged gunfire. Instead, we peacefully turned over our weapons and in return received cigarettes.…
About noon, on the fifth day of their journey, Charity told Uriah to stop the wagon. Looking around, Uriah did not see anything in particular that caught his attention and did not know why she wanted him to stop; as far as he could tell, there was not anything they needed there. And, his mother had not gotten off the wagon to go do her business or said anything about eating lunch. So, after bringing the horses and wagon to a complete halt, he turned to Charity and asked, “Why did you want me to stop?”…
Assignment B: imaginative writing “No Mans Land” A cold wind blew across the barren landscape. shrapnel and rifle magazines were discarded among the wreckage. The survivors of the onslaught looked more dead than alive, their pale green-grey flesh almost rotting. Blisters bubbled like lava, their crimson spots cracked and flaking.…
The clan later got intel on Ash’s mom’s killer or V as Howard called him. A messenger of the society got word that the V’s hideout was on the island Ni’ihau of Hawaii. Also known at the Forbidden Isle. Howard, the clan leader started gathering troops, about 30 members and starting planning for the mission. Howard decided that Ash should go to on the mission with the rest of the group to test his abilities.…
How could he just treat us all like we were cattle as if it was nothing? The speedometer crept up to 60 miles per hour. Didn’t he care that people everywhere were starving? How could he do this? When he was elected he promised that he would Make America Great Again. 70 miles per hour. I had to get to the rally. We needed change, we could be that change. 80 miles per hour. My thoughts were interrupted as my eyes caught the reflecting glow of red and blue lights paint the night sky behind me. Crap. I pulled over and turned off the car, ready to feed the officer behind me a great line about how my grandmother was on her death bed and wanted me and only me to be at her side. My eyes shifted and glanced to the side mirror, the officer straightened out his already tucked in uniform and smoothed his hands over his hair as he made his way from his cruiser. Great, I thought. I wonder how many reprimands this stiff is gonna write me up for. My record already had 14 points on it for picketing, 6 more and I’d be in real trouble. He knocked on the window…
A few years ago, My school took a trip to Washington, D.C. We got to visit many historical monuments that were even more breathtaking in person, but the experience at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial will forever be embedded in my mind.…
The thirty-first of August was a day Dipper both loved and hated. It meant he had survived another year without Bill Cypher rearing his triangular head but, that he was a year closer to that eventuality. On one particularly paranoid night, he had ground up moonstone and unicorn hair into a magical ink and snuck out to a shady tattoo parlour with a fake id and two years worth of saved allowance. So here he was on his sixteenth birthday trying to figure out how to hide the wards he had etched into his upper body from his parents. Mable thought it would be a good idea to have her sweet sixteen on the beach and as her twin brother, he was obligated to let her have her way at least on her sixteenth birthday."Well, the cat was going to come out of…
The short story by Etgar Keret is about the metaphorical aspect of creative writing using two characters; Aviad and Maya, husband and wife who have recently gone through the tragedy of a miscarriage. The story begins with Maya, who has been encouraged to attend creative writting workshops in hopes of getting out more and moving on rather than sitting at home dwelling on the lost child. Aviad at first seems quite pleased that Maya has been doing well in her workshops, however he is critical about how she ends her stories and often wonders if she is in fact writing about him metaphorically. I almost got a sense that in every story she wrote it was there was a subconscious meaning behind it, the story about splitting in half, the story about the woman who falls out of love with her husband, and the story about the cat who’s paternity was in question. Maya even admitted writing the story of the cat before she got pregnant. It would appear that Aviad had an uneasy feeling about Maya's writing instructor hence showing up to the workshop a half hour early. Without Maya's knowledge, Aviad signs up for a creative writing workshop where he writes a short about a fish who is turned into a human by a witch. The fish eventually becomes successful as a human and when the witch decides to turn him back out of pity, she finds that the fish has found his place and leaves him be. The story ends with no definitive ending; however there may be a correlation to the fish story and the fact that since Maya has started writing she has changed as a person.…
When everyone’s asleep that night, Nate camps on the rug in the bathroom, six pills of his father’s pain medication and two thirds a bottle of vodka in his stomach. The vodka tastes like battery acid and leaves a burn in his throat and the pills make him nauseous and give him the sensation of being stabbed in the abdomen and this is the first time Nate truly feels like he wants to die. Like he needs to die, to escape this, to escape everything.…
It was the year 2517, and it had been thirty-one years since a human had been on planet Reach. Thirty-nine years earlier, it was attacked by the covenants, an intelligent alien race. Reach was a planet like Earth, but Earth was lost a long time ago due to the covenant.…
“Don’t just stand there! Do something! Can’t anyone see that he’s dying?” a shrilly masculine voice screamed out into the night. The dying boy was lying on the ground, blood pouring out. He had been stabbed in his chest, just a little bit after his top surgery. He had just gotten done transitioning from a girl to a boy, finally happy with who he was.…
And the war, well, she is Roger’s mother, she’s leached at all the soft, the vulnerable inclusions of hope and praise scattered, beneath the mica-dazzle, through Roger’s mineral, grave-marker self, washed it all moaning away on her gray tide. Six years now, always just in sight, just where he can see her. He’s forgotten his first corpse, or when he first saw someone living die. That’s how long it’s been going on. Most of his life, it seems. The city he visits nowadays is Death’s antechamber: where all the paperwork’s done, the contracts signed, the days numbered. Nothing of the grand, garden, adventurous capital his childhood knew. He’s become the Dour Young Man of “The White Visitation,” the spider hitching together his web of numbers. It’s…
I began in the direction of the screams when I came upon a house. The front door was wide open. I saw someone dash across the opening. Then the screaming began again. “Aaaaahhhh! Help us Alex! We’re in here!” The sound was clearly coming from the house. I took a hesitant step forward. And another and another until I reached the house.…