"Actions speak louder than words creative writing" Essays and Research Papers

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    Creative Writing: Destroying Racism As the snow covered the house that my grandma occupies‚ I looked out the window to the neighbor’s front door‚ their mailbox‚ and the circular driveway they had. It was just another home‚ where kids could build a snowman or throw snowballs on the front lawn. But there where no children or snowmen here. And beneath the snow‚ the word "N-I-G-G-E-R" was written in the grass. A family- a home- where they had bothered no one. One night someone decided to take weed

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    Looking into the distance; there floated an insignificant‚ lonely cloud. Separated from its kind. Roosters were cooing early in the morning and her eyes came to life. Just another day. Better get ready she thought. Tired from sleep‚ Angela threw on her largest coat and searched for the door. There was a tingling sensation once she stepped in the white tiled room. At the polished sink‚ Angela reached for her worn-out toothbrush and the Colgate and paused when she caught her reflection‚ watching herself

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    Aftermath The  battered‚  bruised  buildings  are  bandaged  in white scaffolding.  The  quad  is a temporary emergency  room  bustling  with  activity.  It  is  scattered  with  equipment  like  triage  after  an operation.  The  gashed‚  cracked  and  slashed  ground  is  stitched  together  with  staples  of asphalt  everywhere‚  just  holding  it  together.  The  missing  slate  is  like  gravel  rash  on  the roofs.   The  days  are  cold  and  short.  A  thin  layer  of  grey  light 

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    Creative Writing of Rocks

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    I. The Story of Baseball Player A. Magma Mike 1. Magma Mike was a rookie just starting out in the Rocky League Baseball. 2. He played not too much and was mainly a bench warmer. 3. He cooled and hardened‚ improved on his skills and became known as Igneous Iggy. B. Igneous Iggy 1. Igneous Iggy was a shortstop playing for the Seattle Sedimentaries.. 2. He was a 10 year pro and hit 46 Rbi’s‚ and 15 Homeruns

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    Creative Writing Idea

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    Where do I begin my name is angel my mother is Ellis and I have a 15 year old sister Luna . I have pale skin‚ black hair‚ and regular teenage human gothic/emo girl look. I had a best friend named tyler. Tyler was perfect in every way he had the best smile an adorable laugh and if you were down he would cheer you up with no problem. Last month tyler went missing nobody knew where he was none had a way to contact him because he left his phone at home and his wallet I wish he were still here it’s not

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    Kendrick Creative Writing

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    The teacher looks at her roster with one eye and at me with the other‚ asking‚ a bit curiously‚ “Do you go by Kendrick?” I nod my head‚ in a staid manner: yes‚ I do go by Kendrick. But I understand where she’s going: it’s such an unusual name‚ one that she doesn’t see often‚ and people with unusual names often go by something else. I don’t; for the most part‚ I like my name. Later that day‚ someone says “Hey‚ Kendrick‚” passing me in the hallway. My brain freezes for a second; I have no idea who

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    Gertrude Creative Writing

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    The sharp burst of lighting cut through the darkness of the room and illuminated my ex-wife. If I were in my right mind I would have sent her packing back to her lake house in the Hamptons. But I let her stay for the rest of the night. She needed my help and I couldn’t bring myself to flout her. God forbid something were to happen to the broad‚ well‚ I’d censure myself for the rest of my life. For the mean time‚ Gertrude would be adjunct to my life and I would have to put up with it. A long chat

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    (ME) “Today is THE day! The day I finally get to be welcomed into the King`s castle.” Well… not exactly the ‘king’ yet… but I am here for the coronation of the King; King Macbeth. Macbeth invited me to the castle as a reward for helping the community. I entered the Great Banquet Hall and the whole room is filled with splendor; I smell the great feast being slowly roasted to perfection in the kitchen‚ I hear the laughter of fellowship; it feels like paradise. As I am being escorted to my spot at the

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    CHAPTER TEN The following morning‚ I try on my tennis clothes. I glance in the bedroom mirror. Yuck. The skirt is too short‚ and the top fits snug. I grab my racket and swing. Not bad. At least‚ Michael knew which racket was right for me. I sit on the bed to check my emails when I notice several texts. One if from Zack‚ the art director‚ who tells me that Simon’s driving him crazy. And that my office is ready‚ down the hall from his. I reply. “Chill if possible. See you on Monday.” The second

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    Creative Writing: Genocide

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    Exiting onto the unpleasant frigid city walkways of Oslo‚ Norway in the early winter morning of the Walk. The wind was blowing over the rough scene of the rural city. He is pacing down the bustling roads and pondering which foot will come next. "Left‚ Right‚ Left‚ Right‚ Right‚ Left. No‚ no‚ that can’t be correct." He murmured under his chilling breath. He slipped on the newly solidified walkways‚ he stood up and glanced around‚ feeling humiliated… he saw nobody‚ heard nothing‚ it was as peaceful

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