Arriving home‚ his meeting with Abda Afridi had triggered a fresh wave of inner conflict. His‚ sweats and nightmares returned with a fury unleashed. No matter how hard he tried to escape to his secret place‚ all he found was an uncontrollable shivering. His hair-raising escape from the Syrian farmhouse‚ played back like a horror video‚ leaving him crippled with fear. As he experienced it all over again‚ his eyes darted everywhere looking for any perceived threat. When he glanced down at his hands
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the ground and the whinnies of the wounded animals quickly spooked the entire herd which started to run. The artillerymen who took care of them desperately tried to control them since they were the only possibility to move the cannons towards a safe place‚ but the thunder of the cannons and the chaos around them provoked by the fleeing soldiers made it impossible. All the southern isles’ units near the fortress had began to retreat‚ the correct word would have been run‚ trying to get away from the
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It was a clear‚ dark night‚ everything was calm which was out of the ordinary evaluating the fact that the Cortez family lived in a very poor‚ crime-filled place in Tijuana‚ Mexico. Luis was the youngest in the household‚which then came along his lovely‚ carrying sister Lizzy. Pablo is their very responsible dad‚ and Monica is their very determined mom. The whole family was planning on throwing a huge for Lizzy‚ which was turning fifteen on the month of October‚ it was a little terrifying because
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It was easy to see the colony that was being built within the fences. There were places to eat and gardens on most of the open land‚ Stacie couldn’t help but wonder why Michonne was out so far if their camp was so well off. As they rode closer to the opening of the gate‚ yelling could be heard‚ when the gates opened completely Michonne
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Homer Homer is a fourteen-year-old mutt that we got at the Animal Rescue League twelve years ago. He is not the brightest bulb on the tree‚ but he is personality plus and part of the family. He’s also a pain in the butt‚ especially over the last couple of years. . . . He has a geriatric tendency to empty his bowels in the living room. He likes to wander off whenever he can—well‚ this is not a new habit‚ actually. He likes to lunch from our neighbour’s garbage—also nothing new. And lately he’s forgetful
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The only sounds he heard were the hypnotic ticking of the clock‚ the occasional chiming of the bell the hung above the door‚ and the falling rain. Due to the late hour‚ it was not difficult for him to find a table. There were only a few patrons‚ besides himself. One he recognized as the homeless woman‚ who often made one of the booths in the back corner‚ her bed for such a night. While listening to the rain drops gently pattering against the coffee shop window‚ his thoughts drifted back to her
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The drive from Tuscon was a long and miserable drive. It had just rained the night prior so the air was hot and muggy. The sweat clung on to you like glue‚ and was impossable to peal off. The only thing holding my sanity together is the book I brought with me‚ Weathering Heights. Otheirwise I would have jumped out of the car an hour ago. Right now I can imagine my two friends Stefanie and Alex sitting in their bedrooms under the artic blast of their aircondetioner. Oh how I wish I was within the
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“ 2 more days until New Year’s Gilbert” Blanca said. Last year Blanca stayed up until midnight and she had hoped things would get better but when she told her parents they had said “Oh seguro que lo hiciste .” Her dad never even fueled his promise! So this year she would use whatever it took even video cameras or her neighbor Gilbert and his family and friends who live across the road. When Blanca got home she had a big grin on her face because of her new and brilliant plan. “ Go to bed Blanca”
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The fields were cleared‚ and the mules were working hard now to clear the fields for planting. It was almost noon‚ time to eat. They were tired‚ and they wanted there nosebags‚ filled with sweet‚ crunchy grain and oats. Almost time now. They were at the end of the row‚ and next to it‚ the chain tree. The chain tree was welcomed to the mules‚ as it meant they would get a rest. They would be chained up to it‚ eat‚ and rest for a few hours‚ and then go back to work‚ just as rested as the moment they
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Tired eyes could not contemplate the barren surroundings. They blinked once. Twice. Three times. And still‚ the gray walls did not metamorphose into the equally unfamiliar golden blades of grass. Memories dotted her consciousness. Rough hands‚ heaving her on cold tables. Sharp pricks of pain embedding themselves in her legs‚ her sides‚ and her soft belly. All at once‚ something brought the lumbering wolf to her unsteady paws with a start. The voices flooded her ears‚ blanketing all of her senses
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