it was a cold grey day in late September. The weather had metamorphosed overnight‚ when a backing wind brought a granite sky and a mizzling rain with it‚ and although it was now only two fifty-seven in the afternoon the ashen hue of a winter evening seemed to have closed upon the hills‚ cloaking them in mist. It would be dark by five o clock. The air was clammy cold‚ and for all the sealed windows it still penetrated the interior of the carriage. The leather seats felt damp to the hands‚ there must
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Absolutely nothing in this known world can break the silence—the room was lifeless. The floorboard painfully cries under the teacher’s fantastic high-heeled shoes; it invades the monastic stillness. Under the scrawls of a madman‚ written in a jet-black marker that has seen the end of its days a long time ago‚ slivers of the once pure whiteboard remains. My eyes dart towards the window as I stare at the barren tree branches; they shiver‚ afraid‚ in the thick cold and velvety air of winter. As my stoic
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I peered down at the several plastic bags that I was holding; full of the essential shopping that I had gone out to get last minute for dinner. One of the bags (the one that was hurting my wrists) was clearly overfilled‚ but I couldn’t do anything about that‚ not now‚ in the middle of the street. Letting out a heavy sigh‚ I carried on walking‚ reaching carelessly into my pocket to clasp my phone. In the humidity‚ it felt lovely to have the cold‚ metal block against my hands. I pulled it out‚ feeling
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drew first. They saw her first! Yet she had the upper-hand‚ brilliant! I then understood the events of her duel with the man bare in the white powdery water. She was possibly camped nearby the tree where she had stopped for the night. The slashes‚ she had left them because this was a completely new area for her‚ as she probably is often on the move. I dashed back toward her direction as the events filled empty spaces in the board of a puzzle. She did not know he was there‚ because he struck
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Descriptive Essay On a hot summer day‚ the only good place to go is to the lake. You would go out to the lake to enjoy the water‚ the sun‚ the activities that are happening‚ or just to be with family and friends. When you’re at the lake‚ there are some very distinct smells. The hickey smell of campfire smoke always lets you know that there are marshmallows and hotdogs being roasted. You’ll never want to touch your hair from putting your fingers on the sticky marshmallow‚ to me it’s just crazy
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Washing your hands regularly with antibacterial soap that contain isopropyl alcohol‚ applying antimicrobial ointments to suspected areas. Avoid tight fitting clothes‚ friction and shower after an event that caused perspiration. Avoid shaving the suspected area and to never pick or open boils. Taking antibiotics for 1-2 months can prevent reoccurring infections. The last page consisted of some facts‚ like that Staphylococcus aureus strain MRSA and
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Attitudes about Writing How do you feel about writing academic papers? Writing academic papers covers many topics‚ there informative and studious. It is different from ordinary writing; may require research‚ references and points of view. Academic writing teaches one how to capture and hold the readers attention. Although new in this arena‚ I enjoy the reading and writing of assignments. As time passes‚ I expect to improve on my writings. If you have enjoyed writing in the past‚ what
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local library. Everywhere you looked‚ there were neat rows of books‚ bean bags‚ and comfortable leather chairs. I can hear the muffled stillness and the occasional laughter of children‚ and I can picture the librarian’s blank face when I asked her about Cape Grim. I followed her instructions and found myself at Dewey decimal 994.4‚ Australia -- non-fiction. There was only a small stack of books from
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orthodontists’ antics. Three years of middle school finally behind her. Three years making the most awkward era of her life are in the past. People say that going through puberty sucks‚ but she had it worse than most. She had a hell of an experience. About the time she had her first period‚ she had something called The Expander put in her mouth. What it did was have her screaming in pain as that bridge of death tried to stretch the roof of her mouth because her mouth was too small. It didn’t actually
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Le Fou was a spectacular musician who loved to perform in front of spectators‚ and he loved playing all assortments of instruments. But by far‚ his favorite was the harp. Le Fou was infatuated by all string instruments‚ almost to the point of insanity. He enjoyed the feeling of the soft but coarse cords against his fingers. So when Le Fou heard the rumor of the golden harp he was obsessed‚ he had to find this “magical instrument”. Fortunately‚ Le Fou was born into a wealthy family and had inherited
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