There was no visible light out. It was calm out tonight; mid night dew still fresh on my boots. The smell of fresh pine covered the bare spot of the forest I was now camped in. It was time to break camp; camping too long in one spot could give away my posion. I quickly put away the rest of the salted pork in my left leg pocket and mounted my gun on my right shoulder. I started to stand up‚ but very slowly as to not alert a fly. I finally reach mid standing (not quite standing‚ but not quite crouching
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I absently look at the time on my watch‚ “Sure. I’ll meet you around eight or so. Stub and Herbs?” “Stay strong‚” he salutes with a fist. “Army strong‚ Sergeant‚” I smile and continue walking toward the Arby’s down the street. I check the time on my phone‚ class started fifteen minutes ago. May as well make a few bucks to get by‚ I shrug. I cross the Arby’s parking lot and walk next door where a gaggle of crackheads‚ homeless and welfare check recipients all chain smoke in front of the small
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DUDLEY WAS ROUSED FROM SLEEP BY A QUIVERING‚ SHAKING HAND ON HIS arm and an apprehensive voice shuddering his name‚ “D-Dudley wake up!”. He opened his eyes drowsily‚ vaguely making out what seemed to be a figure. Was John waking him up for work? He felt an unbearable disequilibrium agitating him‚ he did not have any drive to work at the sawmill. A strident voice of modulation triggered the release of the grip. “URUSAI!”. It was a voice he could not understand. What was happening? Was it a dream?
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It was the most horrific April night. The moon was nowhere in sight the stars hid under the cover of dark storm clouds. The wind shook the trees violently and the temperature was biting. Thunder could be heard rumbling and lightning lit up the night sky. Emery Clarkson‚ a man in his thirties‚ emerged out of an Clarkson Corporations after a late night of trying to finish the never-ending‚ mountain-of-work on his desk. His hair was dishevelled‚ his face exhibited a weary expression‚ his suit was wrinkled
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Reaching the 10 mile mark to get back to the original camping site got everyone happy but the happiness soon died as the dark clouds caved our heads and tiny little droplets fell down like bullets. The strong wind howled through the river and the thunder roared. Trees on the side started dancing and leaves clapped their hands. My canoe started rocking harder and harder from side to side allowing the big waves to come into my canoe. Three canoes was already ahead of us and another just went past
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We stop at a stop light in a town right outside of Panama‚ we roll down the windows and you can smell the salty ocean water. We are finally here after twelve long leg cramping‚ neck hurting‚ and back wrenching hours in the car. It was all worth it though just thinking about getting your toes in the tan hot sand. Once we were finally in the city and driving down the strip we rolled down the windows and just admired the view of the ocean and all the waves crashing in. I couldn’t wait to get to
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It was September 11‚ 2011. I woke up in the morning and left for the airport I was on my way to Michigan to watch the Wolverines play The Notre Dame Fighting Irish. I was dragging my bag with my eyes shut‚ but it was worth it. This was the first night game under the lights at Michigan Stadium the plane ride was about two hours but it felt longer when we arrive‚ we went to my uncle’s house in Ann Arbor we had a house on the lake it was so beautiful we went fishing‚ swimming‚ and‚ tubing on the lake
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That feeling of thrilling enthusiasm. It makes your heart race‚ and you feel so ready to play. Every sense is thriving through your body‚ getting you energized. That feeling prepares you to work hard. Once you reach the field you are feeling like a champion. During warm ups you feel as if you’re already in the game. As the game starts all the feelings build up and burst. A sensation of calmness comes‚ nothing is in your mind. All the different senses allow you to be pumped to fight in a soccer match
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I have been a National Basketball Association fan for decades now. I can remember when I was young; I would just sit there on a Sunday afternoon and just stare. Stare without any interruption at my family’s television. Watching the greatness of Michael Jordan‚ who I watched‚ win 6 Championships. The rivalry between the Miami Heat and the New York Knicks was one of the greatest series in playoff basketball in the history of the N.B.A. The love of basketball runs deep within me‚ not just with the sport
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The Japanese say that each person wears three faces. The first face is shown to the strangers in the world. The second one is shown around close friends‚ family‚ and people one surrounds their self with. The last one is only shown to the mirror‚ where the true reflection of one lies. For me‚ these three faces are find better adjectives thick‚ heavy masks that I wear in my everyday life. From speaking Vietnamese to painting a portrait to competing a swimathon‚ these three faces are buried behind masks
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