Lamb to the Slaughter By: Roald Dahl THE ROOM WAS WARM and clean‚ the curtains drawn‚ the two table lamps alight hers and the one by the empty chair opposite. On the sideboard behind her‚ two tall glasses‚ soda water‚ whisky. Fresh ice cubes in the Thermos bucket. Mary Maloney was waiting for her husband to come home from work. Now and again she would glance up at the clock‚ but without anxiety‚ merely to please herself with the thought that each minute gone by made it nearer the time when he would come
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Ah summer 93’. My older brother and I were getting home from a Grateful Dead show. That’s me wearing the t-shirt turban. I had just finished being the bottom half of a human totem pole somewhere between a stoned man’s greased dungarees and a roach littered general admission mud pit. You can tell I was feeling good about it. Some say smoking that many blunts out in the open as a five year old could have serious repercussions for my irresponsible copulaters back home‚ but if my parents taught me anything
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I’m submerged; submerged under the frigid water. I scan my surroundings and find an abundance of nothing. I’m stunned by the scene. The water‚ vividly clear blue‚ was motionless and breathe taking; but not a fish‚ plant or rock in site. ’How did I get here?’ I thought. Panic erupts and rises inside of me. My body acts on its owns out of fear. Immediately‚ I began swimming in hopes to escape this agony. I don’t recall how I ended up here. Actually‚ I don’t recall anything at all‚ but my name. Keith
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Belonging Creative Writing Deafness The hand ticked monotonously around the watch‚ its staggered movement constantly pushing its smaller brother forward. The window was open‚ and a cool breeze fluttered through‚ ruffling the white curtains. The corner of the curtain nicked a calculator on the table and it fell with a metallic crash. However‚ the boy sitting at the edge of the table never moved. It was only when he turned around and saw the broken calculator with a nail protruding out that he bent
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Creative Writing: A Dream Come True Chad Jay Yr.11 There I was‚ sitting on my bed at 2:30 am. Wondering about the dream I just had. Not only was it stupid‚ but I have never had such a weird dream. It was really different. The dream was about a little dog. The dog was walking on my chest‚ while I was lying on something soft. I think it was a mattress. The puppy walked towards y waist. I knew that it was going to bite. "Get lost". I yelled. The dog remained calm. Now it was standing on my waist
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but somewhere in my memory‚ that is good enough for me to think about what writing‚ and being creative mean to me. It was my sophomore year of high school‚ I heard this every time I pull my agenda out and pick up my backpack‚ “they are the same people that go every time.” But before going into all the details about it‚ I think I should introduce you to my mojo in creative writing class‚ too. I think my creative writing teacher remembers me due to my opening line every time I came up to her- “Ms
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E.V.S SENSITIVITY - I 9-10-12 THEOLOGY / MORAL SCIENCE 10-10-12 Letters: DRAWING HINDI GRAMMAR & CREATIVE WRITING 13-10-12 HINDI VOCABULARY & READING COMPREHENSION- ई - An ice cream cone Lesson – 9‚ 12 & 13 Lesson – 7 & 8 Lesson – 5 & 6 Lesson – 3 मात्रा ई‚उ‚ऊ मात्रा Voc-Lesson – 3 ई‚उ‚ऊ मात्रा 15-10-12 ENGLISH CREATIVE WRITING & VOCABULARY Lesson – 4 & 5 16-10-12 MATHS CONCEPTS – I Unit – 4 & 6 17-10-12 ENGLISH GRAMMAR & READING
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Creative Writing Process Piece Reflectio The piece that I choose to display the creative writing process was my Eleven remodel called‚ Eighteen going on Four.This was a remodel from Sandra Cisneros’s piece Eleven. She displayed such an abundant amount of emotions in her piece which is something that I aspired in my own piece.At first I was very hesitant about using another writer’s piece of model after my own‚ it almost felt like cheating. Of course I love to use other’s writing to inspire me but
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approach new life skills and challenges with critical thinking. To find the hidden meaning in everything life should offer. My favorite part must be creative writing because you get to focus on different writing styles and create your own work. Creative writing allows me to I’m a real quiet person. It takes a lot to get me out of my comfort zone. Writing really helped me to be able to communicate without having to open my mouth. My words could influence people and make them see things in a different
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The Catcher in the Rye: Creative Writing Assignment Why the hell do so many people’s lives revolve around some stupid football games played on a Sunday afternoon. I mean‚ do people actually enjoy watching a bunch of overgrown morons bang into each other for 3 hours? There are sometimes when I am amused by what happens in the game‚ but I can catch the highlights in five minutes on the news instead of wasting my hole freaking day. These morons (players) are getting paid millions of dollars to
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