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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THE DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE IN TENNYSON’S ULYSSES The greatest Victorian contribution to poetry is certainly the form of the dramatic monologue. A dramatic monologue is defined by various critics as a type of poem in which a single speaker‚ a persona‚ “utters the speech that makes up the whole of the poem‚ in a specific situation at a critical moment.” This speaker addresses and interacts with one or more other people. They are silent but usually identifiable listeners in whose presence the speaker reveals
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The vile odour of disinfectant permeates the air around me. My heart is racing and my trembling‚ sweaty hands cling onto my mother’s like a sloth to its branch. Gradually‚ more doctors begin to crowd around me‚ resembling vultures hovering over their prey‚ preparing to strike. The clanging of metal instruments and beeps of various machines distract me momentarily. Looking over to my left‚ I see a stout‚ middle-aged man donned in a green surgical gown. He is wearing a big‚ red foam nose and a multi-coloured
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Hello‚ I wanted to send you an email about something that was concerning to me after the game today. Kate came off the field very upset and unfortunately I had two other players with me that I was transporting home so I didn’t get much of a chance to discuss this with her until tonight. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong right away‚ but one of the other players told me she was upset because her coach said there were three players that didn’t hustle and just stood there during the game today. Now
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Paige was born in March 2005. She really enjoys writing‚ reading‚ and painting. Paige loves unicorns and the colour pink. She also loves to play the ukulele. I froze‚ my mouth as dry as a desert. What was I supposed to do? Eight hundred eyes were looking at me! This all started when I received a special gift from my grandma‚ who’d recently passed away. "I’m sorry about your loss‚" stated Sophia. "It’s okay‚ thanks for your concern‚" I sighed. "At least she gave you something to remember her by
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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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I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I had seen him many times on tv and in pictures. However‚ seeing him in person gave off a sense of wonderment. Knowing what he had put me through also drove me angry. These two emotions fought within me and I could walk anymore. My mom‚ who was still holding me‚ tried pushing me forward. I pushed back into her and knocked her onto the ground. "Avia." Aksel said from in front of me. He was standing directly next to the president. My mom got up and forced my arms
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Dr. Spock paced back and forth muttering to himself like a madman‚ pulling at his hair in his frenzied haste. “I just don’t understand‚ it doesn’t make any sense‚” he muttered‚ desperately gazing at the wall before him‚ covered with documents interconnected with a web of red strings. He quickly gazed up at me‚ his eyes bloodshot and skin a pallor grey‚ “We must do the impossible” he whispered so quietly that I had to strain to hear him‚ “We must open the portal.” “No‚” I said in a shaky voice‚
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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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