handed him a small pistol‚ "it isn’t much‚ but it will give you some protection. Please be careful‚ I love you." Saying his goodbyes‚ Thomas turned to the curtain drawn tight over the window. June 15‚ people call it Broken Moon Day. How creative. June 15th of every
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wounds or makes one’s life a little better‚ a little more enjoyable or productive. It’s easy to talk about these things‚ much harder to do them. I think the only one who can help you is you‚ just the same as the only one who can help me is me. I’m writing about the actual work of change‚ what is sometimes called transformation. We might get ideas from others and that can be good. Especially if we know that person has lived the change they’re preaching. We might even agree to work with some mentor as
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animal‚ he seen it foaming at the mouth with a scratch across his face‚ it looked like it just happened to him it looked like a wolf. He saw his teeth‚they were blood red‚ it looked like he just ate supper. He looked at his eyes‚they looked like the ocean in the moonlight sky‚ they shimmered in the light by the way it was hitting him. He got down on his knees and cried out. He was wondered as much as he was frightened. He just stared at the wolf as it did him‚ the wolf just laid there Rainsford not
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English Writing Dear Diary I am standing alone in a lake. The water is still‚ and there is no one with me - nothing containing any life… and yet I still feel like something is observing me. I can’t hear anything or see through the thick blanket of fog that carries an air of melancholy across the marsh. I am standing alone in a lake. Until I open my eyes. Tranquillity leaves me and I am transported to a place where there is no adequation; where hierarchy takes over and all beings abide by it
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Chapter One “It wasn’t me!” I shouted. I clenched my hands into tight fists. Why wouldn’t he understand? I almost gave in to the overwhelming urge to give him a solid punch in the face. The front room seemed to disappear. All I could see was Dad’s angry face. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me young man!” Dad barked. He was breathing hard. We were standing so close that I could see the fine hairs on his face. I stared defiantly into his dark eyes and smiled at him. A muscle twitched in his
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Creative Writing The short story by Etgar Keret is about the metaphorical aspect of creative writing using two characters; Aviad and Maya‚ husband and wife who have recently gone through the tragedy of a miscarriage. The story begins with Maya‚ who has been encouraged to attend creative writting workshops in hopes of getting out more and moving on rather than sitting at home dwelling on the lost child. Aviad at first seems quite pleased that Maya has been doing well in her workshops‚ however
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naively picked one of the coldest‚ smallest and most secluded cities in the large continent. It had a small population‚ and limited visitors‚ but it was right by the coast so it was popular for it’s sales in fish. They lived in a large cabin near the ocean surrounded by nothing but knee high banks of snow and the unknown. The smell of fish oil and tardar sauce seemed to surround the area‚ but it was somewhere they could always call home. One morning in late February‚ the husband Akiak woke up early to stoke their witling
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we got on the plane we head to Florida. After we get to Florida we get an Uber to our hotel which is a Disney hotel so it is connected to the park. We finished putting our stuff away then Abby said‚ ” I am hungry.” I nod and say “ Let’s find some place to eat!” We put all our stuff away and started to walk to Disney world. “wait I think I left my shoe
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Early the next morning‚ I woke up with a rough hand shaking me. I opened up my eyes to see Phokas shaking my shoulder. “Come on Domitius‚ it is time to get up!” I groaned as I did so. Phokas was a family slave‚ and had been personally assigned to me‚ and was responsible for bringing me to and from school each day. On days when we have club meetings however‚ I send Phokas home while I go to the Roman Boys’ fort. We can’t have any non-members around during our meetings! Anyway‚ Phokas is rather
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After all the seniors and teachers are situated‚ the call us‚ the 6th graders‚ the class of 2019 to come down and start shaking hands. I start walking down with all the other 6th graders‚ feeling like a huge pack of animals all trying to get to the place. After waiting for a couple minutes I start shaking every teachers hand‚ starting with the 6th grade teachers. Most of the teachers look down at my name tag and say “Hi Caroline‚ have a good year”. Every once in
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