"Creative writing on refugee" Essays and Research Papers

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    Creative Writing Swimming

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    My alarm interrupts my sleep. I jolt out of bed. My feet pad across my room; I blindly throw on my bathers and grab the usual apple and berry smoothy. I slowly jog out to the car‚ I see mum waiting with the headlights on‚ lighting my way‚ the warmth of the seats are nice in the early morning. We don’t speak on the way to the pool. When I take off my tracksuit I feel uncomfortable‚ I’m too bulky‚ my body is uncomfortable. My body glides through the water creating small ripples along the surface. The

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    Looking into the distance; there floated an insignificant‚ lonely cloud. Separated from its kind. Roosters were cooing early in the morning and her eyes came to life. Just another day. Better get ready she thought. Tired from sleep‚ Angela threw on her largest coat and searched for the door. There was a tingling sensation once she stepped in the white tiled room. At the polished sink‚ Angela reached for her worn-out toothbrush and the Colgate and paused when she caught her reflection‚ watching herself

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    Aftermath The  battered‚  bruised  buildings  are  bandaged  in white scaffolding.  The  quad  is a temporary emergency  room  bustling  with  activity.  It  is  scattered  with  equipment  like  triage  after  an operation.  The  gashed‚  cracked  and  slashed  ground  is  stitched  together  with  staples  of asphalt  everywhere‚  just  holding  it  together.  The  missing  slate  is  like  gravel  rash  on  the roofs.   The  days  are  cold  and  short.  A  thin  layer  of  grey  light 

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    Creative Writing of Rocks

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    I. The Story of Baseball Player A. Magma Mike 1. Magma Mike was a rookie just starting out in the Rocky League Baseball. 2. He played not too much and was mainly a bench warmer. 3. He cooled and hardened‚ improved on his skills and became known as Igneous Iggy. B. Igneous Iggy 1. Igneous Iggy was a shortstop playing for the Seattle Sedimentaries.. 2. He was a 10 year pro and hit 46 Rbi’s‚ and 15 Homeruns

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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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