Short Story Rough Draft Natasha and her mother had never gotten along very well. They fought daily. The atmosphere in the house was always tense. It was no wonder that her mother was so sick. Everyone in the family knew of her condition. Well everyone but Natasha. A few months ago‚ Natasha was at a friend’s house and her mother had to go to the hospital. Apparently the stress from all the fighting over the years was making her sicker and sicker. When they had tried to tell Natasha‚
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[pic] PEN 0055 Essential English Foundation in Law ONLINE NOTES Reading 1 (Short Stories) A Rose for Emily William Faulkner | When Miss Emily Grierson died‚ our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a |1 | |fallen monument‚ the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house‚ which no one save an old man-servant—a | | |combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least
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She had been working with Dr. Grey since she was admitted into the asylum by her mom a month ago. “Let’s finish were you left off at from yesterday. Can you tell me what happened that night? You left off at where you were on your way to school and it was you and your sisters birthday I believe.” replied Dr. Grey readying her iPad to type up whatever Liv said. “Yes it was October 31st‚ our birthday. Did I tell you she was my twin? Yah‚ if you stood us by each other the only way you could tell
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and forehead creased. “Why couldn’t you just reply the first time I call you?” She asked‚ dark eyes flicking up to meet my own for a fleeting moment‚ then back down to squint at the house décor magazine in front of her on the marble counter top again. “I did mum‚” I replied. “Well I didn’t hear you‚ probably because you have that horrible death metal music blasting from your room.” “I would hardly call my music ‘death metal’ mum. But I’m not going there again. What did you call me for?” Ever since
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• Walter talks about the missed business opportunity with Charlie Atkins. P.32 • Complains that he has nothing to pass on to Travis. “I have been married eleven years and I got a boy who sleeps in the livingroom -- and all I got to give him is stories about how rich white people live…” p. 34 • To Mama: “Do you know what this money means to me? Do you know what this money can do for us? Mama—Mama—I want so many things.” P. 73 • Mama: “Son‚ how come you talk so much ‘bout money?” Walter: “Because
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him and prays that whenever the time comes‚ that she will be the first to go because she is weak and he is strong. Summary of “Little Red Riding Hood” This short story is the classic tale of a little girl in a red cloak going to take her ill grandmother some baked goods. This is the first known publication of Charles Perrault’s story. Little Red Riding Hood was loved by her mother and even more so by her grandmother‚ who made her a red hooded cloak to wear out and about. The little girl was on
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Hemingway’s story deals with the sterility and vacuity of the modern world. The boredom of the man and the desperation of the girl reveal the emptiness of the postwar generation and the crucial necessity of taking responsibility for the quality of one’s own life. Hemingway’s characters seem to live in a world without a God‚ without traditions or clear and established values; they are‚ in Jean-Paul Sartre’s words‚ “condemned to be free” and consequently are responsible for their own meaning.
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In the story‚ “The Lottery‚” by Shirley Jackson‚ the only point of view used by the author is the dramatic or objective point of view. In this point of view‚ the narrator is an unidentified speaker who reports things in great detail‚ even though the narrator does not play a role in the story. By using such point of view‚ Jackson builds an aura of uncertainty that endures until the dramatic ending of the story. From the beginning of the story‚ the knowledge about the lottery is revealed only by the
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Short Story There is one thing in my life that I cannot go a day without and that being my purse. My purse is much more important to me than a hauler of my things that gets carried along with me everywhere I go. It metaphorically carries my life in its silk lining. So on a frigid day in November while on vacation in New York‚ I made a horrible realization that I lost my purse. After realizing that I lost my purse I felt like a mother that just lost her child. All I could think about is that
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Fantasy Story: Once upon a time there was a girl named Belle. She lived in a magical kingdom‚ but was unaware of it‚ until her 13th birthday. She and her friend Sunny are to discover that there were more than flowers in a garden. “Let’s hurry!” yelled Belle “We don’t have much time!” “Ok‚ ok‚ I’m coming!” murmured Sunny groggily. It was 3 in the morning after all! The two girls were heading to the Tulip Meadow. It all had started when they were having a sleepover
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