"Creative writing landscapes" Essays and Research Papers

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    Creative Writing Idea

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    Where do I begin my name is angel my mother is Ellis and I have a 15 year old sister Luna . I have pale skin‚ black hair‚ and regular teenage human gothic/emo girl look. I had a best friend named tyler. Tyler was perfect in every way he had the best smile an adorable laugh and if you were down he would cheer you up with no problem. Last month tyler went missing nobody knew where he was none had a way to contact him because he left his phone at home and his wallet I wish he were still here it’s not

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    Creative Writing: Anastas

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    Isabella let out a sigh upon being called deputy commander she couldn’t help but laugh at the ever so formal title shaking her head slightly at the woman. " Anastas I promise I won’t rip your head off if you call me Isabella~ You can even call me Bella if you want."‚ Most of the newer people did infact call her deputy commander but those that knew her for years like Anastas called her Isabella or Bella for short. " I can’t take the credit on this one~ I just bark orders. If we didn’t work in a unit

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    Kanako Creative Writing

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    I slowly opened my eyes to the bright sun shining through my  eyelids. Rubbing my eyes I now noticing that they burned a bit "ugh‚ what happened?" I looked around and noticed that I woke up at the bottom of a giant crater.      I slowly respond still tired after last night "that’s right‚ I must have cried myself to sleep" I said looking at my hand and clenching it into a fist. "Why?.....why did this happen to me? more importantly why did Kanako’s life have to be taken!?" I say as I punch a nearby

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    Creative Writing: Beowulf

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    “Impractical?” Hennit took the lapel of her red tunic‚ embroidered in gold and blue‚ between his fingers. He rubbed the soft fabric and gave her an inquisitive look. “That’s different‚ I don’t wear this to fight.” Hennit shook his head‚ “no difference‚ fight‚ sail‚ eat‚ love‚ all practical‚ all impractical.” Kiennan thought about what he said. She watched him turn back to look out over the railing. She stepped up to the railing and braced her hands against it. “I don’t understand‚” she admitted

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    Kendrick Creative Writing

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    The teacher looks at her roster with one eye and at me with the other‚ asking‚ a bit curiously‚ “Do you go by Kendrick?” I nod my head‚ in a staid manner: yes‚ I do go by Kendrick. But I understand where she’s going: it’s such an unusual name‚ one that she doesn’t see often‚ and people with unusual names often go by something else. I don’t; for the most part‚ I like my name. Later that day‚ someone says “Hey‚ Kendrick‚” passing me in the hallway. My brain freezes for a second; I have no idea who

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    Gertrude Creative Writing

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    The sharp burst of lighting cut through the darkness of the room and illuminated my ex-wife. If I were in my right mind I would have sent her packing back to her lake house in the Hamptons. But I let her stay for the rest of the night. She needed my help and I couldn’t bring myself to flout her. God forbid something were to happen to the broad‚ well‚ I’d censure myself for the rest of my life. For the mean time‚ Gertrude would be adjunct to my life and I would have to put up with it. A long chat

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    (ME) “Today is THE day! The day I finally get to be welcomed into the King`s castle.” Well… not exactly the ‘king’ yet… but I am here for the coronation of the King; King Macbeth. Macbeth invited me to the castle as a reward for helping the community. I entered the Great Banquet Hall and the whole room is filled with splendor; I smell the great feast being slowly roasted to perfection in the kitchen‚ I hear the laughter of fellowship; it feels like paradise. As I am being escorted to my spot at the

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    At 0713 on the 31st of February‚ thirty-two minutes before he had to leave for work‚ Moss dragged himself out of bed amidst the roar of rain pummeling against his capsule’s window. He showered in the cramped communal bathroom‚ drank his Honcho™ in his cramped doorway next to his cramped kitchen counter‚ and sat down on his cramped desk. As he pulled up a paperback copy of The NEON Patriot‚ he spied a figure blocking the ghost insignia on his window. Twenty minutes left. He wasn’t expecting guests

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    CHAPTER TEN The following morning‚ I try on my tennis clothes. I glance in the bedroom mirror. Yuck. The skirt is too short‚ and the top fits snug. I grab my racket and swing. Not bad. At least‚ Michael knew which racket was right for me. I sit on the bed to check my emails when I notice several texts. One if from Zack‚ the art director‚ who tells me that Simon’s driving him crazy. And that my office is ready‚ down the hall from his. I reply. “Chill if possible. See you on Monday.” The second

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    Bullying Creative Writing

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    I lean forward‚ the tips of my fingers on the track‚ back foot at a ninety degree angle from the ground. My eyes dart towards the tree about a hundred metres away from where I am. Dad blows the whistle; a high-pitched squeal that echoes throughout the isolated park.   I push my whole body forward with my back foot‚ and I’m at seventy percent of my full speed for the first sixty metres.   The brown grass beneath me is soft and I’ve reached sixty metres now‚ and the once hidden beast inside me has

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