Assignment B: imaginative writing “No Mans Land” A cold wind blew across the barren landscape. shrapnel and rifle magazines were discarded among the wreckage. The survivors of the onslaught looked more dead than alive‚ their pale green-grey flesh almost rotting. Blisters bubbled like lava‚ their crimson spots cracked and flaking. The atmosphere was cold and distant. Not a sound could be heard‚ not even the morning bird song. No mans land was like a corpse. Not a sign of life could be found‚ not
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My owner doesn’t want me...she never cared. I have been feeling lonely and still do. For over a month‚ I have been hanging in that dark and messy closet at the back of the classroom. I smell awful! Want to know how awful? I reek of all the student’s body odour after they have come inside from recess! I feel as if I am tattered‚ worn down‚ that my threads are coming undone‚ and my colour is fading. Actually‚ maybe I am already. To be honest‚ I actually smell like a “Stinking Bishop”. Maybe that’is
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We have explored a variety of writing styles with food as the central theme throughout. My first essay was an ode to steak‚ which took you through all the senses from the hint of smell to the first savory bite. The second essay was a deconstruction of meatballs and how my first true cooking experience came about. Next was an essay on the adventures of Chinese cuisine and the garlic phenomenon. The last essay was to capture and critique a moment shared with lobster. I am proud of all my essays. If
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“I will die before they touch my precious lands‚” Luna stated. Walking toward the battlefront‚ she gazes around. “When I shall perish‚ remember‚ the heart of the pack is what makes us stronger. Without love‚ without the bond that makes us not only a pack‚ but also a family‚ we are no better than these heartless creatures.” Her voice rang all too clearly through each and every wolf’s ear that day. Slowly
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An Ishvalan was coming directly at them‚ with a gun aimed at their hearts. In panick‚ Roy threw himself on top of Riza’s dying body. He had to protected the girl‚ and sacrifice all he had in order for her to survive. There was no escape. At the sound of the rifle’s trigger being pulled‚ Roy finally awoke from his deep slumber
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down to the beach on one hot blazing day‚ must be another beautiful day in Laguna. I have lived here since I was about three years old and from what I can remember there have been have been no signs what so ever about sharks‚ shark nets and shark attacks being here. I see lots of beach huts with their own distinctive shapes and smell about them. The sea is water is so clear it is blue‚ pure blue. I have not seen anything like this in all the time I have lived here. There are also lots of people
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slashed by the master of life. The sea. The almost grey coloured water was inviting me‚ my way out‚ my saviour- my murderer. Its ice cold lips softly brushing my feet. I was preparing myself for what I was about to do. My skin stood my hairs still: my heart quick. I take my first step. Ankles throbbing‚ toes blistering‚ knees numbing: yet I carry on. The never ending chill- my legs weaken. I don’t recall my eyes weeping; but now with blood shot eyes‚ and cheeks that resemble the walls of a fountain
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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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A MODERN FAIRYTALE :D Once upon a time… I hate to begin with this‚ starting it off as if it’s a happy story‚ a story that will have the ending of the famous last words; happily ever after. I will start this story again‚ this time with a different set out. One day‚ there was a young naïve girl named Mia who believed in ‘happily ever after’ and thought she had found her prince charming. Everything was perfect‚ beautiful romantic dates under the starry night and long walks by the seaside until one
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It was the worst facial hair she had ever seen. Most of the men in the gymnasium had beards. Some were attractive. Most looked like birds’ nests. This one was exceptional. “Hello?” A large red hand waved between them. “Hello?” Lisa plastered on a bright smile and repeated the phrase she had used a hundred times that day. “Happy Thanksgiving! Would you like white meat or dark?” “Hey!” A short man pushed the newcomer aside and shoved his plate at Lisa. “I was next. I want both. And Pete can wait in
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