For the next few years, on balmy spring days, blistering summer noons, and cold, wet, and wintry middays, Annie never disappointed her customers, who could count on seeing the tall, brown-skin woman bent over her brazier, carefully turning the meat pies. When she felt certain that the workers had become dependent on her, she built a stall between the two hives of industry and let the men run to her for their lunchtime…
Eva’s father abandoned her mother and five children, forcing them to live on their own in a single-roomed brick house. Eva’s family was poor. The only thing their family had was a sewing machine which Juana slaved over day and night. Her children would try to get her to stop sewing, but she would respond by saying “I do not have time to stop.”…
I ran out of the garage and towards the field. As I ran I thought to myself it can’t be the end of the season already has it? Once I found Roberto and Papa I saw they were sitting under a tree. I was trying to speak in between panting. I had never run so hard in my life. “Papa is is the end of the season already. I mean it has only been a month.” I said hastily. “I'm sorry but Sullivan can no longer pay us. We must move.” Papa sighed, “I'm sorry Francisco.” Roberto stayed silent and was looking down.I didn’t know how to respond just thinking about all that I would lose during this move saddened me. I no longer would be able to learn the trumpet, no longer be taught English, and I would lose a friend; Mr. Lema.…
This quote from Lady Mcduff basically states that Mcduff does not love his family hand that he leaves his wife to defend and protect their children against the man who wants him dead. I believe behind this quote there is tremendious pain in Lady Mcduff, considering she has heard that her husband has left them to flee to England for his sake and did not think of his family. Reading this and knowing that Mcduff left and did not think of his family makes me understand why Lady Mcduff would say "He loves us not..." beccause he did not think of the safety of his family, he thought only of himself. This foreshadows the slaughter of Lady Mcduff and her son because she compares her and her son to birds of prey and the man who wants her husband dead…
One day Trillium, a two year old gray llama, ate some grass because she was hungry. She stayed in the same pasture as her younger buddy Sassy, a one year old brown and white llama.…
Vesta Davenport was a woman of many words. Or at least, that is what she strongly believed of herself. Numerous ways to describe the woman,as she was everything except [i]gentle.[/i] The word itself sent shivers down her spinal coral. She couldn’t possibly recall a time that was [i]gentle… soft.[/i] A foul-mouthed individual since the day of her birth, her mother recollected that her first word had been “Wo-d.” The sound had an awful resemblance to the word rude, and the joke had been a running gag for the family for several years now. Disturbing calls from her relatives “attempting” to be funny using something she said [i]years[/i] ago seemed to cloud the inbox of her phone, but she completely ignored them. Vesta pulled away and decide to want…
Scurrying of muffled feet, shouts of commands in the far distance, coughs here and there, and moans of pain reached the room. The boys fidgeted in discomfort in the sterile environment. Despite how many times they came, they still felt the discomfort. Was it discomfort from seeing all the sick bodies or was it Irene's body that lay on the white bed, frozen, without any sign of movement? Irene's once olive cheeks were now so pale that it would have faded into the bleached pillow if her burnt auburn hair didn't surround her cold face.…
The change of conversation settled down Tom's thoughts as well, and it also helped that, with Lila speaking, he could sit, with beer glass at his lips, and eyes just barely visible over the rim, and listen, without having to utter a word. Which is exactly what he did for the few minutes until their meals arrived; his silence only broken by the occasional grunt of encouragement for her to continue, and forced laughs. Whether his wife had noted the tone that had accompanied his comment about hiking up her dress and fucking her on the table, the Detective wasn't certain, but he couldn't forget the images it had brought to mind. Simultaneously, he attempted to fight them, and keep the date as he'd intended it to be. A romantic dinner between a…
When Perry awoke from her sleep, riddled with unnerving dreams, she felt weak, like the weight of the world was resting on her frail shoulders. She buckled and sat, rigid, on the hard, gelid floor, praying that everything that had happened was a dream, or a hallucination or a horrible trick. It wasn't. The world was gone, her family was dead and she knew that despite her unrivalled efforts, she couldn't reverse what had happened. “DOUDY!”…
A poem is a composition of emotional language or expression artists incorporate into their form of art. Poetry can be extremely emotional coming from the artist. The poem “Wanda Why Aren't You Dead” by Wanda Coleman focuses on an African American woman who is degraded and belittled by the people she associates with. It shows just how damaging words can truly be when used to hurt a person. “Wanda Why Aren't You Dead” is about Wanda's struggling with the people around her and their harsh opinions about her, however maintaining her identity and becoming stronger by the end of the poem. Wanda, being a poet, expresses her feelings into this poem and does a phenomenal job at it. It allows the readers to feel what the protagonist feels and share in her sadness.…
“I had to quit the job, but the problem was going to be how to do it.” Margaret began to make mistakes when cleaning, but that was not enough. “I had begun to leave egg yolk on the dishes and wasn’t putting much heart in polishing the silver.” After endless tries Margaret breaks one Mrs. Cullinan precious Virginia dishes. “You mean to say she broke our Virginia dishes? What we gone do?” Mrs. Cullinan cried louder. “That clumsy nigger. Clumsy little black nigger.” Infuriated her mistress finally called Margaret by her real name. “Her name’s Margaret, goddamn it, her name’s…
Santa Clara University’s fall one act festival this year consisted of Three More Sleepless Nights and Wanda’s Visit. The first consisted of two married couples conversing in bed with members from both coming together for the final scene. The actors clearly had embraced their roles and where clearly pouring their emotion into playing their characters, making for a compelling performance. At times, however, this could go too far; particularly at the start where it became almost impossible to understand what the actors where saying to one another, making it a bit difficult to follow along. The technical effects where simple but effective, creative lighting techniques allowed for seamless transitions between scenes and a subtle means of conveying…
Myra must have experienced neurotic anxiety in the presence of her husband’s “authority” as she previously must have experienced unconscious feelings of destruction against her parents because of fear of punishment, so she exaggerates her cleanings and frequently portrays herself as a martyr who does so much for others and asks so little for herself, when in reality she usually over sees the cleaning and tells others what to do, and her husband or children help her. This same neurotic anxiety makes her aggressive towards her neighbor as once grass went flying into her garden from her neighbor’s while mowing; and as a result Myra threw a fit and did not talk to the neighbor for two years. Myra displays a disturbing pattern of establishing relationships and then ending them by being rude. She sometimes criticizes people to their faces, or she just stops calling them. Moreover, this neurotic anxiety makes her concerned about spending money and she refrains from expending it despite being middle class and really not poor. As a defense mechanism, Myra has developed an anal fixation, which manifests in her obsession with neatness and orderliness.…
Four laps in, Karishma was definitely feeling the burn. She couldn't breathe; it felt like her lungs had been filled with lead. She slowed to an awkward walk-jog behind the shack, whenever she was out of the professor's line of sight, but even that wasn't enough to heal the stitch in her side. It wasn't that she was obese, because she wasn't, but she certainly had some pudge that made the whole task arduous. Her PE teacher had once told her that she would regret cutting so many corners in his class, and now his voice popped into her head to taunt her. Stupid Mr. Mayfield. She pushed harder even though she felt like she was going to throw up.…
All the trouble began when my grandfather died and my grand-mother - my father's mother - came to live with us. Relations in the one house are a strain at the best of times, but, to make matters worse, my grandmother was a real old countrywoman and quite unsuited to the life in town. She had a fat, wrinkled old face, and, to Mother's great indignation, went round the house in bare feet-the boots had her crippled, she said. For dinner she had a jug of porter and a pot of potatoes with-some-times-a bit of salt fish, and she poured out the potatoes on the table and ate them slowly, with great relish, using her fingers by way of a fork.…