I awoke on a beach‚ completely soaked‚ with salt water up my nose‚ and sand in every uncomfortable place imaginable. Drenched black hair obscured my sight. Cold sea air chilled my bare back. If I didn’t move soon I would die of hypothermia. I stood on my trembling legs. The cold wind bit at my chest. The sky was dark and it was clear that it would rain soon. Broken boards and scattered crates littered the shore. Clearly I was on some kind of ship‚ but where I was or where I came from was lost to
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Writing About Likes and Dislikes: Responding to Literature The act of reading is accompanied by emotional responses which‚ at the simplest level‚ take the form of pleasure or displeasure: You either like or dislike a poem‚ story‚ or play. You have not said much‚ however‚ if all you say is that you have liked or disliked something. Writing about likes and dislikes should require you to explain the reasons for your responses. In short‚ your discussion should be informed and informative.
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The Big Blue Building The big cars were rushing by so fast. They were so loud‚ and I was so scared. I walked down the alley to hide behind the big green metal dumpster with all the rancid smelling trash inside of it. I tucked my tail and tried to stay warm as I hid from the cars and those villainous humans walking past. As it got darker‚ I started to doze off. I tried to stay as awake and on guard as I could‚ but I was just so exhausted. I had been running around all day trying to find a safe place
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While I was strolling on the beachfront‚ I happened upon a bottle under the slowly rolling waves. I picked it up‚ unscrewed the cork cap‚ took out the parchment coiled inside‚ and rolled it out on the fine sand to read the message. It was written in Spanish‚ but my years of education in the Spanish language had allowed me to effectively decipher it. To whomever finds this letter‚ I was one of the sailors aboard the Sanlúcar‚ the Spanish cargo ship that crashed near the shore of this accursed island:
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I’m sitting on a bench in Christopher Columbus Park. The wooden planks at my back are faded from a combination of sun and sea-breeze‚ and under my fingers are lover’s carvings. Names‚ initials‚ crooked hearts‚ equations that end in forever. The last time I was here‚ I was eighteen. Maybe back then‚ I would have seen the beauty in it all. Right now‚ I pass my fingers over the gouges in the wood and hope I don’t get a splinter. I sigh softly‚ leaning forward and hanging my head. One hand dangles
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Writing Flaws No offense‚ but ELA has never been my favorite subject. It requires creativity‚ a characteristic I lack. In fact‚ it took me a week to conquer up this anecdote’s topic. I haven’t always been this way‚ but as you will read‚ numerous habits have restricted my ability to be imaginative‚ and taken a toll on my writing. In grammar school‚ writing was just another subject. The way you wrote didn’t matter‚ just whether or not you could. ELA was learning how to write sentences and use correct
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strengths because writing is a challenge for me. Since the beginning of the year my writing skills have slightly improved. My writing has gotten better over time with the help of my English teacher. I have managed to get at least a B on most of my writing assignments which I am proud of. Writing is a process of expressing thoughts and ideas. For me‚ that is not hard to do. Using hooks‚ anchors and other concepts in that category is not my best ability. I still try to do my best while writing an essay even
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Nakajima Dental Clinic As bold as a lion‚ I proceed to the building and open the door. I stand at the “genkan‚” to remove my shoes first. (A “genkan” is a traditional Japanese entryway area or entrance hall for a house‚ having the same level to the outside‚ something of a combination of a porch and doormat.) I step up onto the raised floor‚ and again bend down to face my shoes to the door‚ as the custom is‚ and perhaps for a quick exit later‚ if necessary. Adjacent to the wall on my right‚
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My Descriptive Writing (By Eduardo Sánchez Morales - M2) I heard the evil laughs of the spoilt men‚ and the screech‚ of the beer opening. I felt sick‚ like as if I had eaten the entire contents of the fridge. I rest my hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and push. Rough wooden splinters cut into my palm; shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The hinges squeal as though they are a warning. Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke. The intense
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enjoyed your flight and we thank you for choosing Eva Airlines. You may pick up your luggage at baggage claim seven.” I vividly remembered this announcement playing as my family waited to pick up our luggage. Naively‚ I asked my dad if he was excited about moving to America from Vietnam. His response surprised me: “Moving to a new country means starting a new chapter of our life‚ so if anything‚ I’m worried.” I didn’t know what to think at that point. My excitement was overtaken by the fear of the challenges
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