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. Miller‚ may I go to the library?” I ask her too frequently
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Each leg dragged behind the next‚ a thousand pounds of white bone‚ sunk in thick ropes of muscle‚ as each of the four legs stamped the cold dirt-filled ground. Each thigh shook as the beast walked‚ even at the slowest pace. And above the legs a giant food incinerator hidden by it’s bare skin dangled with extra weight‚ while the head slowly dropped in sight of a predator. And the head itself‚ a thin slab of stone‚ hovering two feet above the ground. Its mouth hanging wide open‚ you could see the as
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Wood Grouse on a High Promontory Overlooking Canada I Is it possible for a war to change your personality for the rest of your life? People do lots of bad things‚ but killing other human beings is probably the worst. Coming home from war can be a hard thing for even the bravest and strongest man‚ it leaves you with all kind of fears‚ many soldiers don’t even know that they have killed people‚ because their mind won’t accept the fact that they have done these terrible thing. This may lead to depressions
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world is having all the warmth around you ripped away in 2 seconds‚ and the second worst is it being 4 in the morning. It doesn’t matter what you are doing that day‚ waking up by having your blankets pulled off is not an enjoyable feeling. When I open my eyes it takes me a couple seconds to remember what is really happening‚ I peer around the room and see my mom walking out of my room “Jessica‚ get up‚ you need to get moving or we will be late getting your cousins”. I grumble angrily and roll out of bed
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The dust has made its home with us for seven years. I know this because for every year that the dust has blown‚ crushed‚ and swept through our Valley I’ve given birth. Times have been more than ruthless to my family. James‚ my husband‚ has yet to grow enough crops to satisfy the hunger of the banks. My children have not had new clothes in four years and my youngest‚ Keladry‚ has now developed a dry cough. Luke‚ my brother‚ and his family left the Valley to seek out a job and money. He sent a letter
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immediately.... so I’m sharing it. Same program‚ same disease. A VISION FOR YOU PG 151-152 of the big book For most normal folks‚ drinking means convivi- ality‚ companionship and colorful imagination. It means release from care‚ boredom and worry. It is joyous intimacy with friends and a feeling that life is good. But not so with us in those last days of heavy drinking. The old pleasures were gone. They were but memories. Never could we recapture the great moments of the past. There was an insistent
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Marshall is being carried out he asks Curtis "Did we arrest him?"‚ Curtis responds in a sad‚ bitter tone "No‚ he wouldn’t go down without a fight‚ we cornered him in the basement with two of his and they were running low on ammo. However‚ they were behind cover and we thought they were stalling‚ but as the bullets began to stop‚ and we moved in there was a tunnel that led out of the house.” Marshall instantly says “What! He got away!” Moments later as Curtis carries Marshall out of the house the ambulance
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As I opened the door to the panic room‚ I realized something…I had opened the door to the panic room. A place that when entered should have been locked should’ve been sealed so that nothing less than a tank could get through the door. Something was definitely awry. I released the handle and my hand came away sticky. It was blood‚ who’s I didn’t know but the handle was coated in it. Now that the ash no longer clouded my vision I could see that the panic room was pristine as ever. The walls unlike
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‘I will go first‚’ said Jerth leading them on to the vague pathway that led upwards alongside the stream. ‘My eyesight is better that yours in the dark. Hold on to my coat tail and watch your step.’ The others followed suit. Holding on to cloaks and belts they wound their way up the hillside. Jakth followed behind‚ with Sorrow walking between the children and the stream‚ steering them away for the edge if
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The throbbing bass of the brothel’s sound show roared through Rulagh’s bones along with the pulsing lights above the mating rooms. Acrid stim-smoke saturated the air and made his eyes water. A holographic display of a high caste whore filled the ceiling. The crest on her scalp had darkened to a shade of red-black that matched the distended nipples of her scaled breasts. Rulagh flicked his tongue out. The display’s pheromonal musk tasted stale. Most of the rooms at the first level had discreet ’In
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