A new sunny day has just begun. The beach is silent‚ but only for a while. Very soon crowds of people will flood on to the beach. The bright‚ burning ball blinds and rises like a sunflower on the distant horizons. The subtle sea sparkles preciously as it strolls up against the shore spilling the previous day’s remains. Crashing against the shore‚ small waves flash the night’s debris onto the beach. Untouched golden sand‚ so soft and smooth‚ glistens; reflecting the sun’s rays. A soothing‚ light
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Descriptive Essay- Beach‚ Vacation The place where I feel most comfortable is a place where I am calm. A place that is peaceful in its own ways. It is the place to go to get away from all my troubles. It is the one place where I could sit forever‚ and never get tired of just staring into the deepest blue I have ever seen. It is the place where I can sit and think the best. A place where nothing matters but what is in that little moment. The one place capable of sending my senses into an overload
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The Busy City Life New York City can be a beautiful place to live in although at times it can become very hectic and crazy. As the morning slowly comes to a dawn and the sun begins to beam through New York City‚ posing statues and all the buildings begin to glow. Looking out the barred up window of my friends’ 25th floor apartment reminds me of a prison cell. I’m able to look down on the NY streets around all the buildings‚ you see people rushing out of them like waves of tides. The street becomes
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AT THE BEACH(another) A draught blew by me taking my spirit with it. The strands of hair crossed my face; the sun peaked its way above the horizon as if it was scared to shed some light. The smell of the salty sea tingled my nose as I breathed in a breath of fresh air. The sand was a mine field of corals‚ with a collection of many different multicolored sea shells; however at the same time‚ the sand was a bed of blankets. The way the sand flowed onto my feet and out to the spaces between my toes
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potentially suffocating warmth. The beach was tiny compared to the resorts further along the coastline‚ sheltered by the surrounding forests of palm trees. It was an almost perfect semi-circle of fine‚ dark volcanic sand‚ with not a trace of the inland civilization in sight – an unspoilt‚ secluded paradise on an island gradually being colonised by armies of skyscrapers‚ strip clubs and tourist traps. There was a humble building near the eastern end of the beach‚ a traditional affair on stilts with
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Date: April 16‚ 2011 To: Busy Signals‚ Unlimited From: Brooke Perryman‚ Jimmy Wall‚ Taylor Morris‚ and Barrett Watson Subject: Deferral of Training Costs Accounting Issue Should Busy Signals‚ Unlimited (Busy) defer the costs of training to TSRs? Alternative #1 – Busy should not defer the costs of trainings its TSRs since such costs do not meet the definition of an asset. Assets are things that a company owns that have value. This typically means they can either be sold or used
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A Busy Street Scene In a large capital city like Kuala Lumpur‚ there are several busy streets‚ but the busiest of all is Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman. From early morning‚ traffic starts building up. Crowds of pedestrians‚ shoppers and others can be seen walking along the pavements outside the shops or trying to cross the road. The noise of cars and taxis hooting‚ or of scooters‚ flying past is deafening. Anyone who stops by to watch the scene is amazed at the number of vehicles zooming past or crawling
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vacation‚ especially going to the beach. Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys said‚ “On the beach‚ you can live in bliss.” There are many beaches all over the world that people enjoy going to for different reasons; however‚ Nhatrang Beach in Vietnam is a vibrant beach where we can enjoy our vacations at any time of day. As the sun rises‚ shines‚ and sets over Nhatrang Beach‚ it transforms the atmosphere of this magical place. As dawn appears on Nhatrang Beach‚ the sun rises upon the vast ocean
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The Romance of a Busy Broker by O. Henry Short story Analysis produced by the student Sorocian Liudmila gr.LAE16M The story under analysis was written by the american writer O.Henry‚ whose real name was William Sydney Porter. His short stories are known for their wit‚ wordplay‚ warm characterization and clever twist endings. O.Henry wrote about ordinary people: clerks‚ policemen or waitresses‚ many of his stories take place in New York. The title of the story is suggestive‚ because we can
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the adjoining room‚ where her desk was‚ she lingered‚ slightly irresolute‚ in the outer office. Once she moved over by Maxwell’s desk‚ near enough for him to be aware of her presence. The machine sitting at that desk was no longer a man; it was a busy New York broker‚ moved by buzzing wheels and uncoiling springs. "Well--what is it? Anything?" asked Maxwell sharply. His opened mail lay like a bank of stage snow on his crowded desk. His keen grey eye‚ impersonal and brusque‚ flashed upon her half
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