Alexander Han Ms. Friedlander English 10 Honors‚ Pd.7 12 May 2011 Subway Station Standing in the subway station‚ people start to appreciate the place; almost to enjoy it. A boy looks at the lighting; a row of meager light bulbs‚ coated with filth‚ unscreened and bewitched to a yellow‚ stretched toward the black mouth of the tunnel‚ as though it were a bolt hole in an abandoned coal mine. Then he lingers‚ with zest‚ on the walls and ceilings‚ lavatory tiles which had been white about
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Eyes Left Burning and Heart Still Searching My eyes start to tingle and burn as they become covered by a blanket of smoke as I stare into the bright glow of a 4th of July bonfire. I’m relaxed and comfortable as I reclined back in my canvas lawn chair. With one hand‚ I loosely hold a dewy can of beer‚ and my other hand is tucked tightly under my knee to keep from the cool air. I close my eyes tightly trying to rid of the burning from letting myself stare far to long into the flames. They seem to
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The Wounded Soldier A blast of cold air hits on his face like the blade of a shredding knife. Bodies of fallen comrades and enemies lay all around him. The smell of flesh from both sides of the war together with the dust and smoke almost made him sick. He has never been more aware and cautious‚ cowering in fear at the sounds of machine guns. The thought of reuniting with his family is the only hope that gave him the strength to continue‚ allowing him to forget about the inclement taste
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The impending storm breeze catches the scent of the raging battle‚ characterized by the odor of blood mixed with the fresh rain. Only one town over‚ the sky is clear; the only other indication of bloodshed being the rising plumes of smoke in the distance. From distance‚ the red color seems a product of the mens’ uniforms and flags. Getting closer‚ it becomes clear that the is defined not by the soldiers’ uniforms‚ but instead by the mutilated bodies inside of them. Despite this‚ thousands fight
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He’s a young fellow‚ the comedian‚ with white socks striped in dark‚ and dark suspenders over a white T-shirt. White face‚ red nose. His MO is to take after individuals and emulate their movement without their seeing‚ to the joy of the sizeable‚ regularly evolving group of onlookers. We’re staying here on the means of the Museum‚ hot and sweat-soaked‚ watching the show. The jokester can tail anybody: a smooth lady wearing pink unsettles‚ a child with a mountain bicycle‚ a muscle-shirted man talking
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"You see us as you want to see us—in the simplest terms‚ in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...and a basket case...a princess...and a criminal. Does that answer your question?” Claire Standish is believed to be the princess of the “club”. But who is the real Claire? Claire is the real princess because of her appearance‚ her actions‚ her life‚ and her future. Claire presents herself exactly how she is stereotyped to be‚ a princess
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The Cattle Barn It’s a small lot on our farm‚ with white and red tin siding that many people overlook. It’s right next to the voluminous silver towers of our mill. It’s a place where many lessons are learned and see many “joys and discomforts” of agricultural life all throughout the year. Starting in the middle of December all the way to the beginning of July is where I get to watch my project grow and develop. As soon as the herd sees me stumbling down the hill‚ they race to the gate and acknowledge
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The adrenaline pumped through my veins. My heart was beating so loud and fast. There was the ball‚ held in the referee’s hands‚ about to be thrown up into the air. I stood a few feet behind the boy on the opposite team‚ poised and ready to catch the ball when my teammate smacked it toward me. Oh‚ I was so nervous. Suddenly the basketball hit my stomach with incredible force. It bounced off and rolled away on the floor to be picked up by the opposite team. The game had begun‚ and I had already dropped
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Something any soccer player wants most than anything in the world‚ a President’s Cup championship. Practice is the reason for these types of tournaments. All the practice and extra work I put in payed off. I put in so much hard word and dedication‚ you wouldn’t believe. We had to do a lot of conditioning and drills to get to this point. My team and I worked ourselves to the point of breakage. We worked all summer for this moment. We played against higher level teams to make us better‚ and that was
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His ruthless heart on the ruby-splattered blade of its guiltless bearer‚ he dropped like a stone to the bloodstained turf‚ letting a cry of anguish blend in with the rapidly retreating footsteps of his cowering soldiers. He knew he would survive‚ but they didn’t‚ and at that moment in time them not knowing was what really mattered. He stared through his supposedly closed eyelids at his killer. A girl‚ this time‚ with blonde‚ wavy hip-length hair and startling cyan eyes. That was what got him that
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