Welcome to “The Land of a Thousand Blessings.” A short flight from the continental U.S.‚ Puerto Rico is a wondrous dichotomy of American sensibilities and international charm. Blending Spanish‚ Indian and African cultures‚ the island boasts lush tropical forests‚ pristine beaches‚ and a diverse dining and nightclub scene. There are far too many reasons why Puerto Rico is a wonderful place to live‚ but if we have to list a few‚ we would say: Tax Incentives The tiny island offers some big tax breaks
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On the farthest northern edge of Queens Shores lies Tiar Boulevard. If you are in the mood for shopping‚ and have a lot of time to pass‚ thenTiar Boulevard is the place to be.And on this warm breezy August day Kohl and Renee were window shopping; one of their favorite pass times. After the last three months of constant cleaning‚ rearranging furniture again and again‚ Renee was in desparte need of a break. Kohl parked on the south side‚ and they walked their way north. “Hey Renee‚ look
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“Nooo!” was the first thing that cried out of my mother’s mouth as the back entryway swung open. The chipped wood on the door‚ the scattered coins‚ the front door wide open‚ and the red purse turned upside down had the entire family in shock. This would be a Thanksgiving Day the whole family would never forget. It would likewise be my first phone call to the police. Slowly the phone rang and the officer said‚ “911 what is your emergency?” I answered‚ saying‚ “Help‚ help my house has been robbed”
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New London. A place of opportunity. A place for the future. A place of fierce oppression. I grew up just like every other child in New London. We’re raised by parents that were raised just as us. We’re given predetermined jobs. Twenty thousand dollars is then given to the children when they reach seventeen as birth money. From there‚ they do their job. They’re given a wife at age thirty. And the circuit is repeated. Just as it has been for the last seven hundred years. Complete stability. Nothing
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I crouch alongside the Pennsylvania State House silently. I peek out from the edge towards the front door. Two guards stand on each side engaging in small talk. With a groan‚ I slump back against the building. How am I supposed to get in? I lean my head against the wall and look up toward the sky. The window directly above me suddenly opens and I freeze in fear. “Why are you opening that window? It’s out in the back hall!” “Well‚ I thought we could leave the door open and have a nice breeze flow
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It was a typical spring day; flowers stand tall‚ soaking in the sun’s warm rays as they swing in the gentle yet crisp breeze. A song composed of chirping birds slightly overpower the sound of traffic as it is still early in the morning. Macy Jones awoke after a well rested night. Her facial expressions indicate happiness however‚ a way of reality hit‚ quickly transforming the slight smile into a deep frown. Macy Jones is not pretty‚ nor does she feel loved. She often wished her dull brown hair be
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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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Carina Wallace English 111 Ms. Simmerman Jan. 22‚ 2015 My Second Home I wake up to the sound of laughter downstairs‚ and the smell of fresh hot biscuits in the oven. I sit up drowsily in bed; the sun is shining through the window‚ making little patterns of light on my sheets. I rise‚ feeling the coolness of the wood floor against my feet as they touch the ground. I walk to the closet and grab my faded old jeans; I slip them on‚ buttoning the snap in one fluid movement. I pull open the top drawer
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