The Great Carnivore It came on great bared‚ tremendous legs. It creaked out in the open‚ a startled beast‚ curling it’s watchmaker’s claws at every step. Each leg dragged behind the next‚ a thousand pounds of white bone‚ sunk in thick ropes of muscle‚ as each of the four legs stamped the cold dirt-filled ground. Each thigh shook as the beast walked‚ even at the slowest pace. And above the legs a giant food incinerator hidden by it’s bare skin dangled with extra weight‚ while the head slowly dropped
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"Now Dalton‚" The military commander said I know you want to be in son‚ but I can not have you join the military in this condition." "Come on commander‚ I have been trying to get a job and I’ve really work hard for this‚" Dalton replied. "I’m sorry Dalton‚ but until you become strong like our men‚ we will not assign you to the military‚" the commander explained. "But-" Dalton said sobbing inside for not saying it. "No buts‚" said the commander. As Dalton walked away he felt like he was pushed
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Unwelcome Passenger The man looked familiar‚ and immediately I felt my pulse quicken. He wore oil-stained jeans and a torn leather vest‚ but no shirt. Straight black hair hung nearly to his waist. A snake tattoo circled his forearm. Mid-thirties‚ I guessed. I didn’t realize I was staring so hard until he scowled and muttered‚ "Do I know you‚ bud?" I quickly averted my eyes‚ not wishing for an exchange of words and maybe more. The man picked up the newspaper and the pack of cigarettes he’d
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Another day has passed‚ another sunrise witnessed. Laney wakes up on one of the cold‚ hard benches of Central Park. She looks around to see the same scene as she always does‚ the fountain‚ the first group of tourists‚ and the same trees that she has seen everyday since her parents died. She sits up and a shiver trickles up her spine. Laney looks down at her shoes‚ filled with holes‚ her pants‚ ripped and torn‚ and her hands‚ numb and frozen. A couple walks by and glances over at Laney‚ they start
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Writing Your Story Kalika D. Peterson CMC/240 3/10/14 Donna Rossi Today’s society‚ the media has succeeded in brainwashing the world . Things like‚ “Thin is in” “fat is out”‚ “eat this”‚ “ your beautiful if you look like this”‚ the list goes on and on. From the media‚ to weight loss company‚ magazine articles and cosmetic lines‚ they all want women to take their advice because of course they know what’s best for you as a woman‚ right? Self-esteem‚ according to
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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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“Our land hasn’t grown any crops for the last 3 years. We’ve got no money since we sold our pigs. I don’t know how much longer we can all survive here‚” I hear Ma say to Pa on the other side of my bedroom door. We have been going along with very little food since the start of the droughts in 1931. I know everyone’s suffering and has been for the last few years but we never wanted to admit it. Hearing those words out of my mother’s mouth made my head spin. It was as if reality finally hit me. It
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his lanky stature. That was where it became obvious where Han got his features. Han‚ like his father‚ was rather tall and thin‚ with the same wild shock of brown hair that he never seemed able to tame. The bell rang for the fourth time. Han’s gut tightened. It was time for the broadcast. It was then that the center of the room lit up with a flash‚ temporarily blinding him. When his eyes adjusted‚ he saw the hologram in the center. Something was wrong. These twice monthly broadcasts occured like
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ago‚ might have been the last time you might ever talk to them and see them. All of this happens within minutes and without any warning. Put yourself in the position of someone who has to question if they will be able to see the sun rise the next morning; like myself. Early in the morning of October 25‚ the USS Tang shot its twenty-third torpedo. It went exactly as planned. It fired hot and its path was going straight. I was in the operations room with a few other crew members whom I have never
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out‚ with that cocksure attitude of early puberty. It can’t be long now before someone speaks up‚ tells you they’ve been watching. Any time now. But for now you’ll sit alone at lunch
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