This story starts in a murky alleyway focused on a hidden bundle. A boy just out of infancy‚ buried in rags‚ breathing in the thick mist alone. No soul around to feed or care for him. An adult’s mind he must obtain. Though short his thread to life is as lung-deep coughs emerge. Slipping into slumber‚ ghost smoke fills his mind. Fear-filled screams draw our story to this past. We watch as he crawls trading this horror for another. He enters a world of lost love. Gentle hands a fading memory as bruises
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Rule 1 in nonfiction writing: Talk to the people who were there. Rule 2 in nonfiction writing: Corroborate people’s memories of the event with court records and other official documents. Why there’s a Rule 2: Occasionally a source will tell you a tall tale. Be skeptical. Rule 3: Define your story with facts but remember that drama lies with people. Rule 4: Be persistent because often people avoid talking about deep and sometimes painful memories. Rule 5: Letters‚ diaries‚ journals and photos
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Roland’s glass door swing open‚ the man walks through is the very epitome of authority with his gun hanging idly at his hip‚ the party guest reflected in his over-large sunglasses. Everyone seems not to notice‚ they are not scared. What can he do? Arrest them all for underage drinking. Maybe if a soldier walked in‚ people would start talking. One of the other officers dressed in blue cuts down the girl she still hangs lifeless for all to see. “Dear friends lend me your ear for a moment. Take a pause
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In his Article "Science Nonfiction" Niv Lilien expresses the fact that in the future‚ technology will have a massive role in our daily life style. He emphasizes that a future that revolves exclusively around technology is not far away .Throughout the article‚ he verifies his assumptions by interviewing technology leaders and specialists who share the same mindset as he does. The writer begins with an imaginary story which describes how he believes our future will look like in 40 years. The protagonist
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Praying for Sheetrock is a work of nonfiction that she includes the phrase as a part of the title. Perhaps she feared that her use of novelistic techniques might lead the reader astray into believing that the stories she tells‚ the history she recounts‚ are imagined or distorted. Without resorting to journalese‚ she employs some of the reporter’s tricks to make her work more immediate: background stories‚ anecdotes of local color‚ repetition‚ and just enough narrative tension to push her tale forward
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Scottie is back from North Carolina‚ his current place of residence‚ for a few days. He’s a shrimper who works on his dad’s boat. He goes deep out in the ocean on the gigantic boat to catch shrimp. He hasn’t been back to his hometown in almost a year so he wants to spend time with his family and friends. Scottie has dirty blonde hair and expressive blue eyes that sometimes turn green. He’s strong and he’s loves going outdoors‚ such as camping or fishing. He’s constantly smiling but he can be serious
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At first Sammy didn’t know what it was‚ or what it wanted from him. He wasn’t the bravest seven-year-old and still slept with a nightlight and teddy bear. But‚ Sammy had to be brave today‚ because not even his own parents would believe what he saw. He sat on the floor playing with his match box cars‚ pushing them around‚ and making engine sounds with his fluttering lips. That’s when it climbed out of the couch‚ a hodge-podge of things that were lost in the sofa cushions‚ deep in the cracks; pencils
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Only if Robert had quit this obsession then he wouldn’t have been left on the street. He was calm and tendered by everyone in his family and his staff members. In his nuclear family‚ he had a son who played with toys all day‚ a daughter who burnt the midnight oil to get into her favorite university and his beautiful wife who was deeply engrossed into fashion and its magazines. Eventually and more significantly‚ everyone was satisfied and happy. However‚ that tragic period in his life had changed
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Anne slept lightly all night. Her head ached with thoughts about "Sir" de Lurrey. She thought all night and when she awoke in the morning‚ her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her head burned with pain. She was exhausted. She felt her throbbing head. She was burning up. She felt warm and was afraid. Anne lived in fear of fevers ever since she was young. She feared a fever would take her life just as it did her parents. Anne lay back down. Later Priscilla awoke. She saw Anne lying in her bed. She
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They were both still wary‚ keeping an eye on their back trail. For once‚ they talked as they walked and Alma liked the noise they made. Two or three times‚ the hound took off on a track‚ and they had to call him back. “Would be a lot easier to call that red boned hound‚ if he had a name‚” Gabe said. Alma nodded. “You’re right‚ what do you think suits him.” “Terror‚” comes to mind. Alma laughed for the first time today. She clapped her hands‚ and the half-grown red‚ brown dog came leaping out of the
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