Nestled deep within the Berkshire Mountains rests the small town of Westfield‚ Massachusetts. Every morning‚ a light‚ tepid fog settles among the quiet streets‚ devising a peaceful and calm atmosphere. Light winds gently brisk through the many oak trees‚ swaying the branches back and forth. From afar‚ the tall mountains border the limits of Westfield‚ forming a panorama of natural landscape. Fortunately‚ I was able to call the town of Westfield my home for many years. However‚ the town serves as
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William Faulkner was a talented American writer‚ who won a Nobel Prize‚ from Mississippi. He is recognized for his remarkable work in literature through novellas and novels; he also wrote essays‚ a play‚ and poetry. In the story A Rose for Emily‚ Faulkner narrates a woman’s life‚ death‚ and funeral. Throughout this short story‚ he uses distinct symbolism and major themes that cannot be comparable to any other author of his time. Also the way he depicts his characters play a major role in the success
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Rose Martin Cruz Smith’s Rose‚ is an encrypting novel about love‚ mystery‚ and culture. It enwraps all the classic qualities of the Industrial Revolution in England in a collective way. For example‚ in the novel‚ it describes the grime and disgust of most cities‚ as well as the rampant diseases throughout many households of England. The protagonist‚ Jonathan Blair‚ is a victim of the disease Typhoid and must overcome his troubles in order to solve an encumbering mystery. This mystery is his ticket
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From Link: http://www.freeessayexample.com/2009/11/descriptive-essay.html Descriptive Essay A lot of folks depict paradise as lying on some remote island overlooking a stunning sunset while feeling the sand between their toes. My conception may be somewhat different than most people. I can envision beaming music‚ and people as they frolic. Where the party never stops‚ it keeps going and going like the Energizer bunny. The scenery will be the most divine of anything on this earth‚ more so than
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I remember the last time we saw each other; he stepped like a person that never reached his destiny. He came near me and broke the silence with a sincere voice that slipped through his throat‚ as it approached the cavity regarded with the gift of sound‚ said to me “I missed you”. My grandfather is a worn and skilled man. His ancient body unveils the arduous work he has gone through. The integument of the upper part of his head has lost most of his shiny hair like the leaves of an old tree succumbing
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Everyone has a place where they go to escape all the pressures and worries of life. There is always that one spot that can mellow all your problems and soothe troubles in times of stress. For me‚ the beach is the ultimate cure to all of my problems. While I am there‚ all of my obligations suddenly vanish. As I stroll along‚ I can feel the soft smooth sand beneath my feet. As I take in the soothing atmosphere that encircles me‚ I close my eyes‚ letting myself absorb the warming rays of the sun on
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The sunset A sunset... The first impression of it is a beautiful and mystifying creation of the nature that leaves a great image in people?s minds; however‚ sometimes those images can associate with an opposite feeling like tiredness and anger. It was in the afternoon‚ around four; I was sitting on the beach‚ looking at the sea and the sun‚ and waiting for my friend. I enjoyed looking into the horizon of the sea where the sky and the water were merging together‚ how the waves were covering each
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For most students at Lincoln High School‚ today is no different than any other regular school day. For me however‚ it’s the day I’ve been looking forward to for over a month. Today is the day when our hard work during numerous evening rehearsals pays off. Today is the day when the hundreds of hours put into making costumes‚ building the set‚ and intricate make up designs are displayed. Today is the day we open the show. One by one the students filter into the theater room. For the first
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At the Game Bright lights illumine the night sky. The distant roar of cheers and applause hits my ears—it is a Sunday night football game at the Chiefs. As my aunt and I walk to the gates‚ we are confronted by two massive men patting another down. We get closer to the gate and I hear the clicking of the tickets—a beautiful song in a surprisingly synchronized rhythm. We then walk to our seats fighting our way through the crowded channels of hallways. We find our seats—front row on the 50
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North of Alaska‚ ripples scattered over the water as the small ’u’ shaped trawler glided through the shivering water. As Summer swept through‚ the mountains with the remains of snow enclosed the lake‚ distant from the open sea. A small gulley was the only way to access the unknown feverish water. A thin layer of ice sat clumsily on the cool liquid. As the humble boat pierced through the slender layer of ice‚ it parted with ease leaving a slushy mix on the surface. Calmly‚ the middle aged man walked
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