once fiery red hair is now thinning and turning gray. The color of the sky right before a storm. More hair now seems to forming a mustache. Now the once dark colored baby‚ is elderly and fragile. A leathery wrinkled old man has now taken Kevin’s place. Like a piece of glass‚ unable to move quickly or handle carelessly. Kevin’s broad floppy ears have lost their hearing. The lovely refreshing eyes have lost their effect and are now covered with thick glasses. This old man’s house now smells like
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restaurant for our family meal‚ I was excited about traveling the distance to Golden Corral. When we arrived to Golden Corral all I could see was a multiple array of cars wrapped around a tan building with a big neon red sign reading Golden Corral. I peered through the back window of my parent’s car looking for an available parking spot‚ but all I could think about at this point was my social anxiety from all the people that must be inside this place. Surprisingly‚ after a few seconds of entering
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blush. Next I felt it in my stomach.Those butterflies had come. Everyone trying to look‚ trying to look for the boy who fell behind the bleachers‚ the boy who knocked down the backdrop. It all started at Providence Elementary’s Winter Concert. It took place at Kempsville Middle‚ home of the Chiefs. The classes were getting ready for our songs. Getting in costume‚ and mingling with friends. The boys were dressed in dreidel costumes which were blue boxes with the usual dreidel letters on it. They were around
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The United States’ flag which soared high above the building like an eagle overseeing a tundra stands in the heart of this courtyard. Etched in stone on the front wall of the courthouse are the words" Truth‚ Justice‚ and Liberty." This is a place where one should feel truly safe. As I walk inside the cold and quiet building‚ a young woman is talking with the circuit court clerk. She appears with a child-like innocence and a petite figure‚ with blond hair that flowed freely like a lions’ mane
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after I find meaning of the vocabulary and I had to read it again. And in the book‚ I lose the story in my head at some point. Because of this‚ I started to hate reading something and have hesitation to read and write something about English. And I had a kind of trauma about English. I started to have
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An Unmistakable Presence of Peace Places of serenity hold captive the fondest pieces of our memory. We walk on the hard‚ cold stone path barefoot. The air is filled with the aroma of gardenia. The cool‚ crisp breeze slices through the humid atmosphere. The wind-chimes sing their songs of sharp‚ staccato notes. The forest seemingly forever expands over the flat land of Louisiana. The rustle of the leaves of 100 year old oak trees in the wind reminds us of the outside world we had momentarily left
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My Quiet Place After a year of living in our small two bedroom house we decided that we needed to add another bedroom. We had made all the decisions of what we wanted it to look like such as the size of the room‚ the size of the closet and what we what kind of mood the atmosphere would give us. I wanted the room to feel welcoming‚ warm and cozy‚ like sitting next to a warm fireplace on a cold snowy night. I wanted to call this room my quiet space where I can relax‚ read‚ and be big enough
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thought about who in your life would be your hero‚ well in my eyes Lewin Canady my dad is my hero‚ he is my rock. In my home town most people’s hero’s come in a military uniform. Mine comes in work boots ‚raggedy old jeans with mortar on his hand and a hard hat. This man is my father he is understanding easy to talk to‚ has a kind heart‚ and he is a survivor. When it comes to being understanding‚ my mom has never been the best at that which for most girls they talk to there moms about everything
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the suburbs of Las Vegas. I was laying down on the couch‚ watching tv and I could hear my mom talking on the phone in the kitchen. “I’m down to my last $100 and we don’t have any food….She’s your daughter too‚ and I would rather have her live in a place where I know that it would be more stable. It will only be temporary‚ until I can find a stable job...Ok‚ the soonest possible flight would be the best….Ok‚ thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” She hung up the phone and sighed.
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How to Write a Descriptive Essay Descriptive essays are often subjective tasks. The first issue at hand is to make sure you know what type of paper you are writing. The descriptive essay is often creative‚ personal‚ or simply artistic. Discuss the assignment with your professor or teacher before you begin. Even though your descriptive essay is more personal than a standard five-paragraph or compare-contrast essay‚ there is still quite a bit of homework to be done. Here is a list of important rules
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