My bare feet chafe against the rough plastic of my bike pedals. I pedal as fast as I can‚ but it’s still not fast enough. A colossal headwind slows me down‚ making me work twice as hard to go half as fast. I need to get to the beach before dark‚ and I can already see the sun setting through the careening trees. To my relief‚ the sharp smell of salt and decomposing seaweed soon fills my nostrils. Despite everything‚ I manage to smile at the thought of all the euphoric memories I associate with the
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do not know if it is true‚ but I know my mother is just perfect for me. Her name is Yasmin Surani. She is thin and short with black curly hair. In my childhood‚ she was a housewife‚ and she also had at least one part-time job. Now She spends most of her time with my father‚ my brother‚ me and as well as with our dog who is Yorkie breed‚ and his name is Rocky. My mother has all the qualities of a great mother‚ but most of all she is a great human being. My mother is so far the most influential
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time! Sitting upright and squeezing my eyes shut tight. It seemed as if the loud tones playing through my ear buds were not loud enough‚ to overcome my anxiety from the plane ride. I then‚ took a deep breath and reminded myself of where I would be once the flight was over. “Maui”‚ mouthing the name of one of the most attractive Islands in Hawaii. I instantly thought of the breath taking beach resort‚ valleys and waterfalls‚ and overall the outdoor activities; my apprehension about flying was suddenly
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I knew he was leaving. I could see the anxious anticipation in my mothers body language in the days before. I knew he was leaving. I coud hear him still rummaging around in the closet‚ carefully selecting the uniforms that he would wear when he was gone. I felt a slight pain in my chest knowing that I would now become the man of the house once again. I saw him lay his duffel bag along with his carry on in the corner of the living room that he and I had painted the month before. I glanced up to the
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already filled my nostrils. The temperature was already in the eighties and my lip had developed a fine sweat mustache. I knew it was going to be a hot day. We had arrived at the landing site fifteen minutes early; this allowed me time to get my gear organized and wonder the quiet landing site. As I stepped out of the truck‚ the door squeaked open. I gave it a heavy‚ handed push to close‚ as it was old and didn’t always shut the first try. The slam echoed through the deserted park. In my hand‚ I firmly
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staring at me. Stage lights flood the stage‚ music begins. Being backstage‚ anxious to get on stage and perform. This is what happened on my first Nutcracker show in the Party Scene. It was a cherished and unforgettable moment and a thrilling feeling I will never forget. In those minutes‚ I knew dancing was an enjoyment for me. It was a day in December‚ my friends and I were walking up to the auditorium where Salt Creek Ballet was having their annual Nutcracker performance. We arrived in the crowded
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It’s early in the morning and my mind and body try to connect to wake up. I move as slow as a turtle‚ maneuvering across my clothes-piled floor. Delicious salami and butter sandwiches are packed‚ Euros are stowed‚ and shoelaces are tied; everything is ready for my Paris adventure to launch. Cramming into my host family’s blue‚ shrimp sized car felt like caged bird. Speeding through the narrow streets made me feel like a bumble bee‚ shifting so quickly and searching for a destination. Not a single
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of my surroundings‚ the scent of my brothers‚ sisters‚ and mother before I feel the warm‚ soft touch of my mother’s’ tongue cleansing me. I whine‚ hungrily‚ and start to look for an open teat in which to get food from. I finally found one and begin sucking desperately before one of my siblings can take it‚ and sigh at the taste of the milk. I feel the warmth that is my mother and siblings around me and fall asleep‚ thinking that it would last forever. I wake up to the cold‚ nipping at my skin
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rain tapping on the window above my head. As a person who enjoys storms‚ I was enthused about the weather. I slid into my jeans‚ combat boots‚ and chunky sweater‚ smiling as the soft fabric touched my skin. Days like this are my favorite. I had already declared this day to be a good one. The wind whipped around me as I got out of the car and struggled to open my umbrella. As I walked inside‚ my boots squeaked from the puddles of rainwater that I trudged through on my treck to the building. I could
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myself deflating. Suddenly‚ my gloomy home began to move‚ and a bright beautiful light from the sun appears above me. The rough big hands picked me up and placed me on the soft grass. I can feel the warmth of the bright sun on me. All the thoughts running through my head about what is going to be my task this time. I am prepare to make my owner a better player by the end of the task ahead. Just then I am kicked to the middle of the field where my task will begin. My owner starts dribbling me down
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