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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The Fallen It is a beautiful day in New York City. You can hear a symphony of sirens and songbirds as the sun’s radiant beams dance among the clouds. There are people everywhere laughing and enjoying the day. Suddenly everything changes. Then the sound of a deafening explosion echoes through the air. A plane has just struck one of the infamous Twin Towers. Fire is blazing above as thick clouds of smoke roll out of the top of the North Tower. Another thunderous blow shatters the atmosphere. Then
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The campsite that I visit yearly always seems to surprise me. Last year‚ I visited Bear Creek Camp for the fourth time. When one goes to a camp‚ they can expect to get soaked in mud from head to toe‚ leaving them to scratch off the crusty residue until they are graced with a shower. They can definitely count on the infinite drone of insects‚ keeping them up until the crack of dawn. Above all‚ they can count on something to go wrong. Last year‚ I was greeted at camp with a torrent of rain that
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The air flew past our heads‚ and screams echo through the air. The sun is beating down relentlessly‚ people’s cheeks are tinted red‚ partly from screaming‚ partly from the sun burns that are beginning to take form. Individuals of every age are jammed close together. You can hear them begging for an end to their terror‚ and other are embracing the adrenaline‚ breaking out in hysterical‚ maniacal laughter. Lights flash in front of our faces‚ blinding us. At this point‚ my feet are dangling‚ and I
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After waiting many hours in the airport lobby‚ the plane finally was ready at gate 42. I took one last look at where I had been sitting for the past two hours. As I walked toward the plane‚ I thought about all the terrible things and accidents that I had been through at my summer trip. Shake once I boarded the plane and tuck myself comfortably in the seat‚ the plane took off and started the journey toward the blue sky when I heard a rumble under my feet. I didn’t worry as I thought that it was
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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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I could feel the cold. I could feel it against my crestfallen face. I didn’t know if I was ready‚ ready to never see anything I love ever again. I stepped up into the cockpit of my bomber‚ a Matte Black Avro Lancaster with four propellers at the front. It was huge but it flew well and was hard to see against the backdrop of the dark night sky. It had bombs stored in its metal hull and had guns at either end of it. I made a few swift movements. Flicking controls and pressing buttons‚ instantly
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Peter Marsden Professor Canipe English 113 Sep 4‚ 2013 Reaction Paper 6: Small Avalanches Small Avalanches is narrated by a 13 year old girl who you find out is named Nancy. She lives in a small town in the early 1900’s I would guess. Nancy goes to her uncles shop where he repairs cars‚ and gets a soda pop. She describes how she loves it when the soda man comes to collect the change from the machines. While she is at the shot with her uncle she asks if her cousin Georgia is around
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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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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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