Luminous were the lights as they shone upon the golden masks of the dancing party guests. Women gracefully glided across the ballroom‚ the slow‚ rhythmic “click clack” of their heels echoing throughout the space‚ as their gowns twirled nonchalantly around their bodies‚ accentuating the soft yet striking colors of their dresses. They firmly clutched onto their partner’s shoulder‚ as if afraid that they would fall‚ and their partners in turn held a firm grip around their waist. Snap. And just like
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Bella pov "What is that?’’ One of the women asked in a soft voice as her hand shot up to cover her mouth. I did my best to pulling it out of Jame’s hand. But he tightened his grip on my tail. "It’s a tail!" Laughed a man with white blonde hair. "Can I feel it?’’ Asked the same women. It’s caught my attention‚ my eyes snapped to her. They wanted to feel my tail? My blood started to boil with anger as she stepped forward. My eyes darken and I pulling against my bonds‚ bearing my teeth at her hissing
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Concept of Irony‚ 1992‚ p.207). “Thus in Hegel’s discussion of Plato’s system there appear various loosely scattered remarks claiming to be absolute because the whole context in which they would have manifested themselves in their relative truth (but therefore all the more justified) is destroyed”. (KIERKEGAARD‚ S. The Concept of Irony‚ 1992‚ p.222). “Thus‚ when Hegel’s whole examination of Socratic irony ends in such a way that Socratic irony becomes identified with Platonic irony (…)”. (KIERKEGAARD
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The glazed tiles reflected on my tired eyes not allowing to be opened. I slowly started blinking‚ harmfully blinking my eyes to see where I am. I scrunched my eyes at the bright shining light of the operation theatre. Imagining what all I had gone through in the past hours‚ I felt relieved. Thanking god to keep me alive‚ and letting me save the lives of those innocent people who have suffered so much. The nurse approached me and inquired about my health. It was more of a routine‚ and I was dragging
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As I walked into the barbers for my weekly shave I notice the barber sharpening his razors. The colour drains from his face‚ and though I can not see it‚ I know he’s trembling. I almost laugh‚ it’s like he wants to be caught. I begin to remove my belt‚ as it holds my gun and my cartridges‚ the weapon that killed his allies‚ and notice him eyeing it nervously. I stop myself from smiling as I hang it onto the hook in the wardrobe and rest my hat on top. As usual‚ I hung up my bullet studded belt‚
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PROLOGUE PROLOGUE Only fools became starfighter pilots‚ and my mother was one of them. It is dumb to put yourself at so much risk‚ because you may end up as a flaming fireball through space. Like my mother. You would never know if the Sinats would attack‚ or ambush‚ or raid. My point is‚ piloting a starfighter is very‚ very dangerous. And of course‚ my mother happened to be one of them; a flying‚ dangerous maniac. By my fathers definition‚ she was extra stupid‚ but I always thought that flying a
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If I see that one of my friends is continuously looking off into space with a frown or looking down into their laps as if waiting for something ‘right’ to fall into it. . I make it a priority to text or talk to them about it. Usually they’ll say things like “I’m just tired.” Obviously‚ being someone who uses that excuse as if it’s the secret to life‚ I tell them it’s okay to talk about it if they need to. But‚ what about me? I mentioned I use that same ‘excuse’‚ did you catch that? Yes? Well‚ I’m
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The sun was an arctic blue overhead as I lay on what appeared to be a dull orange shrub. I closed my eyes for a moment‚ completely disoriented. Just a moment ago I was in a park‚ I remember a tugging sensation on myself‚ then a crushing feeling‚ before suddenly being thrust into the sky that I see now‚ completely alien from my world. Where am I? The land around me was rather flat‚ orange shrubbery dotted it‚ with certain structures on the plant that glowed blue‚ most no higher than my shin‚ trees
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Ding‚ding‚ding‚ring. I hear my phone buzzing terrified to pick it up the laughing in the distance. I can hear Becca’s heels coming down the hallway. I’m trying to decide whether to run or stay there and take the wrath of her and her “minions.” Think Scarlet... too late. Becca is standing in front of me with her bleach blonde hair and minty breath. I can feel her eyes burning in my head. Scared looked up‚ she asks “ Have you seen your phone lately?” Laughs burst of behind me. Embarrassed I respond
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burn and rage at the close of day”.(line 2) The main character in W.D. Valgardson’s short story “God is Not a Fish Inspector” does not share this perspective on life and death. It is not death that Fusi‚ the main character in the short story‚ wishes to avoid‚ but rather an inability to live. He refuses to stop fishing‚ defying his old body‚ his worried daughter and the fish inspectors because he believes that a person should be useful and vital. He believes that only a productive life is worth the
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