This year I decided to interview Mrs. Jackie Hammers‚ the choral director of our Jr. High School. I have a love for music and she was a very inspirational teacher when I was younger‚ so I felt the need to ask her about her job. Mrs. Hammers is like I said a music teacher‚ but to be more direct she teaches 7th grade general music and is the choral or vocal music director at the school. Her daily routine consists of the following‚ taking attendance and watching the morning announcements before class
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One of the worst feelings in the world is having all the warmth around you ripped away in 2 seconds‚ and the second worst is it being 4 in the morning. It doesn’t matter what you are doing that day‚ waking up by having your blankets pulled off is not an enjoyable feeling. When I open my eyes it takes me a couple seconds to remember what is really happening‚ I peer around the room and see my mom walking out of my room “Jessica‚ get up‚ you need to get moving or we will be late getting your cousins”
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Prototype 17‚ also known as Joey‚ had been created for a purpose. A purpose she has yet to discover. Her creator had a unique idea in mind‚ which no one had thought of before. He was an interesting man. His mind‚ as vast as the universe that he lived in‚ supplied him with endless ideas. But only one did he attempt to develop. He continually struggled to create the perfect Chimera‚ but each time he failed to do so. His inventions just didn’t serve the purpose he was aiming for. However‚ he never gave
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The Loss of Wings I will never forget the moon and how it looked especially bright. I will never forget the cold winter’s breeze and how it swept me off my feet. I will never forget the stars‚ and how they appeared to be closer and closer. I will never forget the night of the beginning of the end. That night was only a few months ago. It is amazing how much can change in just a few months. Sometimes I ponder how my life would be if only I had walked away. If only I had maintained my footing
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.... Eleven one thousand‚ twelve one thousand. The train ended. Twelve seconds. Twelve seconds and one hundred-eight box cars. Nine box cars per second. Twelve feet per car.... seventy-three and one forty-fifth miles per hour. Han computed this subconsciously in a matter of seconds. He accomplished such feats of brilliance often‚ and especially when he felt uneasy. Never before had he felt so uneasy. Nothing was actually wrong‚ in fact‚ the day had been almost remarkably commonplace. "then why
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“Waaalter! I’m going to the grocery store. I want the laundry folded and dishes washed by the time I get home.” calls Mrs. Mitty “Okay dear‚” Walter replied. Walter dragged himself from the couch into the kitchen and began washing the dishes. He hummed to himself a song that gets him going when doing work around the house. Poketa-clap-clap Poketa-clap-clap-clap. As he was washing the dishes his daughter‚ Little Isabelle‚ ran into the room energized and excited; she kept tugging on his shirt begging
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She could only snort‚ since she didn’t believe for a second that he would actually dump her into an ice bath. At least not with the understanding of what kind of hell would come his way if he did actually do it‚ as well as the kicking and screaming he would be subjected to on the way to dropping her into the ice bath. Considering the meltdown she had and the past twenty-four hours‚ even she was pretty confident that Agent Asshole here didn’t want any more trouble for the rest of the night at least
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The woodlands lay in complete darkness ahead of them‚ no insects buzzed or night birds called out to break the silence. Sorrow led the way‚ a grey ghost in the shadowy recesses among the trees. He scouted ahead‚ eyes and ears alert for danger. The others followed as best they could‚ staying close in the pitch black of the woods. Once the wolf-dog alerted them to a party of Goblyns in the trees ahead of them and they had to double back. Jerth and Jakth led the children silently through the maze of
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It was another terrible day. It has been more than five years since the zombie apocalypse began. Normally on a day like this‚ it would smell like flowers‚ and sometimes car smoke when cars passed by‚ but when the zombies came‚ it always smelled like a dead body. Outside‚ the only sound you heard were the dead wind‚ and a zombie would make a sound every now and then. The sky was rarely blue anymore‚ it was always a dark grey sky. Food now was very hard to find‚ and when you did find some‚ it tasted
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My toes pressed firmly into the cool-March sand. The waves gently crashed onto the shoreline of the quiet‚ small town‚ which was still in hibernation from the cold winter season. St. Christopher’s beach was always breathtakingly beautiful at this time of year – the weather was not warm enough for the town’s more promiscuous side to come and twirl around in their sheer undergarments‚ but it was not too cold as to where the touch of the salty water felt like a thousand daggers were piercing your body
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